Condemned
by LuNa3300
Summary: I was fifteen when I sent the love of my life to prison for a crime he didn't commit. Rising MMA star. My brother's best friend. The guy I destroyed with a single lie. Now eight years have passed, and is free. And he only wants one thing. Me, at his mercy. And I am. I'm a prisoner on his island, held captive by his deviant desires, bound by his justified fury.
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary: _I was fifteen when I sent the love of my life to prison for a crime he didn't commit. Rising MMA star. My brother's best friend. The guy I destroyed with a single lie. Now eight years have passed, and is free. And he only wants one thing. Me, at his mercy. And I am. I'm a prisoner on his island, held captive by his deviant desires, bound by his justified fury. Even worse, I'm a hostage of my own treacherous heart. But he is a man obsessed. A man whose darkness is bigger than the both of us. A man who will stop at nothing to get the answers he deserves._ **

**This fanfiction will be graphic and have themes some may not be okay with. This is a WARNING.**

 **Please right a review and tell me if I should continue with the progression of this story. Updates will be every Saturday.**

 **Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fairy Tail or its character. All rights belong to HIRO MASHIMA!**

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 **Prologue:**

We'd left the grave site two hours ago, but Mom's lifeless eyes still accused me. The memory of finding her dead in the bathtub, the water deep and murky with her blood, embedded in my brain like a tattoo I couldn't erase.

I stood in my bedroom, a space inundated with white lacy subterfuge, and sensed the uprising in my soul. Grief turned and boiled with a vengeance. I clenched my hands and crossed them over heaving breasts but couldn't stop the eruption. I'd been simmering too long, unchecked. I hated my perfect room, my perfect family, my perfect life. Appearances were deceitful bitches that lied and covered the ugly truth.

"Open the door, Lucy!" Frantic fists pounded, and I covered my ears to block out my step-brother's barrage on the door. The first drop of misery fell from my eyes and despite squeezing them shut, I was incapable of stemming the mental pictures. They flickered in my head like a child's View-Master reel.

I relived Mom's horrified expression the night she heard me cry out, recalled the condemnation in her voice when she yelled at Sting to get out of my room. I still saw her wide eyes—the same brown as mine—staring at me blankly a few days later, open and void as the life bled from her wrists.

"Let me in!"

"Go away!" I screamed, repulsed by the mere sound of his voice. A sob caught in my throat, and my body shook with the effort of holding back. I was trapped inside myself, a prisoner of rage and despair. Bursting with the need to tear into something, I dug my nails into my arms.

Her face wouldn't leave my mind. Her beautiful face, twisted with shock and disgust at what she'd walked in on. I'd been too ashamed to explain. Now it was too late. I'd never see her again, never again inhale the sweet scent of jasmine as she embraced me.

Sting's fault. My fault.

My nails dragged down pale flesh, almost of their own volition, and left behind ugly red streaks. Letting out a roar, I hefted a chair into the vanity mirror. My reflection shattered with an echo, a grotesque replica of my soul. I was unstoppable, insane with the need to destroy, to create the sound over and over again. Breaths coming in shallow gasps, I swept candles onto the floor, followed by pictures and perfumes. My entire makeup collection crashed onto the white carpet where the colors stained with flawless imperfection, but the pressure in my chest wouldn't subside.

The assault on my door grew in strength, and I thought I picked up another voice blending with Sting's. Had to be my imagination. Dad had barricaded himself in his bedroom, just like me, though he had a sedative and a bottle of Jack to keep him company.

Afternoon sunshine streamed through the lace curtains, an assault of warmth on my face, and I scowled. The skies should have opened, should have drenched the earth until it drowned. On that day, the day I'd watched my mother go into the ground, the whole fucking world should've cried until their eyes bled.

I grasped the lamp on my nightstand and hurtled it through the window, eliciting that glorious sound of splintering glass again, and I screamed until my voice went raw like the rest of me. The door broke under Sting's struggle to get inside, and I fell backward, landing hard on the bed with both hands raised.

"Leave me alone," I said with a pleading sob. He'd never gone so far as to break down my door. My room had been my only sanctuary, other than those few horrible occasions when I found him lying in wait in the darkness; those times when I wasn't quick enough to escape within my four walls and turn the lock. "Don't touch me!"

Strong hands encircled my wrists and pulled them to the sides, but it was Natsu's beautiful green eyes staring back and not my brother's. Tension seeped from my bones, left me weightless, and I exhaled in relief when he knelt in front of me, elbows resting on my thighs. A significant moment passed, locking the two of us in that short span of time when the world magically receded.

"I've got you. Everything's gonna be okay." His arms wound around my trembling body, and I went limp in the cocoon of his embrace.

Sting stood off to the side, arms crossed and gaze shooting daggers in our direction. I stiffened under the threat of his jealousy, and not even Natsu's warmth could combat the chill that seized me. I wanted to believe him so badly, but nothing would ever be okay again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Here is the first chapter. Please advise there are many adult themes in this chapter so please read at your own discretion. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Lucy POV

 **Eight Years Later**

When it came to karma, I wished for skepticism. Thing was, I fully believed in karma. Something had to balance the scales, otherwise the world would tip off its axis and crash into total chaos. Thanks to my belief in supernatural balance, I had no doubt I was screwed. That was never more true than when I gripped the single piece of paper on which four words were written.

 _I'm coming for you._

I'd found the note tacked to my door. I didn't question who left it, as only one person had reason to leave such a warning, and considering he'd been released from the state penitentiary three weeks ago, I couldn't deny the evidence. I'd been agonizing over the moment when he would confront me. When, not if.

My knees gave out, and I sank to the bed. Rain beat against the roof in a sudden onslaught, and the "panes of my favorite window seat rattled. I hadn't been home for more than a few minutes, but apparently I'd escaped inside at the most opportune time. I took the torrential tap-tap-tap and rush of wind as a sign, an omen perhaps.

He was coming for me, and I deserved it.

Someone pounded on the door, and I jumped like a frightened kitten. I stashed the note in the drawer of my nightstand and returned to the foyer, pulled the door open, and almost expected to find Natsu on the other side.

It was Sting, not Natsu, who shoved past the threshold. Immediately, the strong odor of booze hit my nose.

"You're not fuckin' marrying him," he said with a slur. I edged away as he stumbled into the accent table in the foyer. "I'm going crazy, Lucy. Look what you've done to me." Wiping soggy blonde hair from his eyes, he lurched forward and clung to my shoulder to keep from falling.

"Did you drive here?"

"Of course I didn't drive! I'm not an idiot."

"I know you're not an—"

He grabbed my chin, silencing me instantly. "You're gonna call this engagement off, do you hear me?"

"The ever-present weight of dread held me in its clutches. "Dad pushed for it." I paused, one, two, three thuds of my heart pounding in my ears. "Just like he pushed for me to date Hibiki. I think he knows."

"Knows what?" His fingers fell from my chin, and I stared at my feet, enclosed in trendy black heels that matched the black cocktail dress I'd worn to dinner, where Hibiki Lates had proposed.

"About us."

He faltered, mouth gaping, and it was the most unusual sight. Sting didn't normally struggle for words, threats, insults.

He blinked and the moment was gone. "I don't give a fuck what Dad knows or doesn't know. You're gonna break this engagement, and you're not seeing him again." As if the issue were settled, he staggered into the living room where he sprawled onto the sofa, one leg bent and a foot resting on the floor. I averted my gaze from the bulge behind his zipper.

I needed to get him out of my house pronto. "I'll call you a cab. We'll talk tomorrow about this, I promise."

He let out a bitter laugh. "My cab just left, and we're talkin' now." His brows narrowed over angry hazel eyes. "C'mere," he said, patting his lap.

I backed up, shaking my head.

"No? You want it extra rough? Is that it?"

I didn't want it at all, but I knew better than to voice it. I scratched my arm, digging in a little deeper than usual.

"You think marrying some vanilla playboy is gonna 'fix' you? Make you normal? We both know you're nothing but a slut."

I clenched my teeth. His insult maimed more than his hands did, especially since he was the only man I'd ever slept with. He perceived any guy who glanced in my direction as a threat, as if I welcomed the attention, and he'd become downright vicious since Dad set me up with Hibiki.

Dad had always made decisions for me, from what school I attended to which program I chose as a major. I'd earned degrees in accounting and business, but harbored no desire to use them. He expected me to hop on board the family legacy in a managerial capacity, but unlike him and Sting, I had no interest in mixed martial arts or running an enterprise of venues and training centers.

I chalked it up to the fact that we didn't share DNA. Mom married Weisslogia Eucliffe when I was six, but he was like a dad to me, especially since he'd legally adopted me, and as such, I'd never thought of Sting as a step-brother. Not where it counted. The step part got lost in the sea of right and wrong and perversely unacceptable.

I folded my arms and put another foot of distance between us, backing toward the foyer. No one made me more uncomfortable in my own house, in my own skin, than my own brother.

He seemed pissed that I wasn't rising to his bait by responding. "You're my slut, aren't you, Lucy?" He pushed off the couch, as if he only now realized I was retreating, and gripped my arms. "My little whore who loves to be fucked."

"You're hurting me," I said, barely above a whisper, but his fingers pressed harder when I tried to pull away.

"Not as much as you're hurting me!" He drove forward and slammed me into the wall, trapping both wrists on either side of my face. "You know we belong together. You'll never keep me away. Never."

"Let me go."

He brought his face close, lip slightly curled, and his blue eyes stalled on the ring adorning my left hand. I unfurled my fist until the large diamond scraped the wall, hidden from his line of view. "I won't stand by and watch you marry that bastard. I'll kill myself, just like your mom."

I gasped as the familiar, crushing reminder of Mom ate away at what was left of me. I had no words for him, no protests or pleas. He tossed out the threat to hurt me, like he always did. I wondered if he'd go through with it this time. I tried to imagine him gone, but instead of despair, I found the remnants of sorrow and the promise of relief. Shame accompanied both, as I shouldn't feel sorrow after the things he'd done, and I shouldn't feel relief because he was still my brother.

"Say something!" He cried, shaking me, his face a contortion of bewilderment. "Didn't you hear me? I'm not kidding! I'll do it."

"You don't know what you're saying. You've been drinking—"

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I don't wanna live if I can't have you. Say you won't marry him."

"I won't marry him." I swallowed hard and counted the seconds. Five in, hold, five out. Repeat. All the while, I prayed he'd let the issue drop, let me go and walk out the door.

He had other things in mind. His mouth smashed against mine, tongue forcing my lips apart and plundering. I didn't fight him. I'd learned long ago it didn't do any good. He'd only get rougher, meaner, and in turn, my fucked up body would only get off easier."

"I kept my eyes shut and wished to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. The distinctive slide of his zipper rang loudly in my ears, and his hands blazed where he cupped my ass and lifted.

"That's my girl," he breathed as I automatically wound my legs around him, dress bunching at my waist. He pulled my panties to the side and pushed in with a grunt. His fingers banded around my wrists, pinned them to the wall above my head, and he pounded into me, shoving me higher with each forceful thrust. I held back the vomit burning in my throat.

One more thrust, another grunt. "No more Hibiki," he said.

"No more Hibiki." My face tightened as his tempo increased.

"No more avoiding me."

I agreed to that too. I agreed to anything he wanted when he fucked me. The alternative always left me battered, bruised, and torn to pieces emotionally because the more I fought him, the more he set out to hurt me beyond what I could handle, and that usually meant he brought up Natsu and what he could do to him if I didn't comply.

That threat carried more weight than ever.

Sting didn't last long, probably because it'd been a couple of weeks since he'd last cornered me alone. Hibikis' presence had gone a long way in offering some form of protection, but I wasn't so naive as to think he could act as a barrier forever. Even marrying him wouldn't do that.

Sting finally loosened his grasp and allowed my feet to touch the floor. I rubbed my arms where the red impressions from his fingers marred my skin, making the faint, white scars from my nails more noticeable. He took my face in his hands, fingers gouging my jaw, and his gaze bored into me, through me.

"You didn't get off."

"I did," I said quickly, because not reaching orgasm always angered him. "I swear I—"

"You didn't get off. Don't try to fake it. I'll always know." Stepping back, he gestured toward my dress. "Take it off."

"C'mon, Sting, you don't have—"

"Take it off."

I unzipped the dress and let it fall to my feet, and my breasts jiggled in their braless state. He shoved me across the room, down to the couch, and forced my thighs open. Sinking to his knees, he yanked me toward his mouth until my ass was half off the couch, my legs dangling on either side of his shoulders.

The instant he tore my panties from my body, my mind went blank, as the sounds of my cries were too degrading to acknowledge. I vaguely recalled him twisting my nipples in unforgiving pinches, then slapping my breasts hard. He jammed his fingers into me mercilessly, and after he'd compelled an orgasm from me, he made me suck my own cum off, shoving his fingers deep into my mouth as he emphasized how he was the one who had made me come.

 _Only me, Lucy. No one else._

Then he was gone, and I was in the scalding shower, eyes squeezed shut, fists crossed over tender breasts to keep from bloodying my knuckles on the tile. The only drops of water on my cheeks came from the shower head. I never cried. I didn't allow myself the luxury. My breaths came out in soft shudders, and I tried to keep myself in one piece as I recalled what he'd asked before he left.

 _Do you still love him?_

My denial hadn't placated him, and his parting words blared through my head, more forceful than my shame. _If you go anywhere near him, I'll fuck him up for life. He's a lot easier to get to now, isn't he?_

The thought of my brother hurting Natsu terrified me, so I'd told Sting I hadn't heard from him. A lie, because I was pretty sure the note came from Natsu.

Was this always going to be my life? Lies upon lies, sprinkled with the occasional half-truth?

I could leave. I'd considered it before, had even tried once, though I only made it halfway to the California border before chickening out. Too many people close to me had suffered, like the guy I'd teamed up with my Junior year for a science project. He made the mistake of hitting on me, and Sting had given him the nastiest beat down of his life, leaving broken bones and bloody flesh in his wake. Dad's money swept that one under the rug.

There had been others, some no one knew about because Sting was intimidating enough without his reputation as a fighter to keep most quiet. They suffered his rage in silence. Fear of retaliation wasn't the only thing keeping me from fleeing though. I'd hung on to the stupid, absurd, fanciful hope that Natsu would someday forgive me.

Impossible. What I'd done was unforgivable.

Standing at a crossroads of sorts, I needed to find the strength to move on with my life. I glanced at the enormous engagement ring Hibiki had pushed onto my finger earlier that night. No matter what Dad believed, tying myself to a man I didn't love wouldn't fix anything. Neither would continuing to allow Sting free rein of my puppet strings.

For the first time in your life, Lucy, do the right thing.

The voice sounded like my father's. Certainly, the words were something he'd say, something he'd said again and again every time I fucked up. And I fucked up a lot. My whole life was one big fuck up.

I shut off the water, wrapped a towel around my body, and entered the bedroom, then changed into jeans and a sweatshirt before pulling a duffle from the closet. I blindly flung clothes onto the bed and stuffed some into the bag. The stash of cash I'd saved, tucked underneath the mattress, also went inside. Lastly, I tossed in my wallet. I didn't need anything else. Just myself and the courage to leave.

That was the hard part.

I took off the ring and let it drop onto the nightstand, then I closed my eyes and envisioned my escape. I'd walk down the hall, feet sinking into the plush runner one last time. I saw myself crack the door open and peek outside, saw myself hop down the stairs of the porch, my paranoid gaze buzzing around as I approached the Volvo Dad had given me for graduation.

The alluring taste of freedom, only a few feet away, tempted with promise. I just had to close the distance and take the first step. I left the bedroom and moved toward the foyer, like a teenager sneaking out past curfew. I felt like a child, excitement fluttering in my belly as my hand neared the doorknob.

Trepidation also stirred in my gut. If I disappeared, would Sting really hurt Natsu, a man he'd once called his best friend?

A knock sounded, and I jerked my fingers back. A few tense seconds passed before the knock repeated. For someone terrified of escaping the shackles of a life unwanted, I should have given more thought to the possibilities on the other side of that door. Swinging the duffle to my back, I pulled it open, and my breath whooshed from me as I uttered his name.

"Natsu."

He was here, standing in front of me, and my knees almost buckled, weaker now than when I'd first spied his note upon returning home. A violent blast of air and rain blew in with his presence, carrying a hint of roses from the bushes off the porch. The aroma infused me with a sense of serenity despite the darkness shadowing my street.

I was the perfect prey in that moment, too stunned to keep my head. I stumbled back, a mistake on my part because he was the second man that night to shove his way into my house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Here is the second chapter. Please advise there is crude language in this chapter so please read at your own discretion. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. Updates will be Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Natsu POV

I'd always fantasized about taking a woman, really taking a woman, and until Lucy had destroyed me with a single lie, the fantasy had only been the depraved thoughts of a man who still had his moral compass intact. A lot could change in eight years. Fuck, I remembered her as the 15-year-old girl she'd been, so I had trouble thinking of Lucy as a woman. My dick didn't have the same problem; it couldn't wait to get her alone on Tenroujima.

Engaging the deadbolt, I leaned against the door and stared at her with a nonchalance I didn't feel. God help me, but I couldn't take my eyes off all those blonde curls cascading over her tiny shoulders. The slender slope of her neck drew my attention, and I imagined closing my hands around her throat and squeezing the essence from her, imagined the panic in her eyes as she neared loss of consciousness.

"Miss me?" I asked.

Her eyes, already wide at the sight of me, grew even rounder. "What?"

I crossed my arms, aware of how my biceps bulged. "I didn't stutter, sweetheart. It's been a long time. Did you miss me?"

"Did I…?" She shook her head, as if I'd uttered the most ridiculous question she'd ever heard. "What do you want, Natsu?" Her words fell from her lips in a nervous whisper.

"I think you already know." You couldn't send an innocent man to prison without expecting some sort of consequences. Except Lucy didn't know two fucks about me. The real Natsu Dragneel was about to do reprehensible things to her, like toss her deceitful naked ass into a cage.

Her gaze veered to the floor, and I barked at her to look at me. "If I could change things, I would," she said, inching back, a fist rising to her mouth to hide her trembling lips.

"Would you now?" I tilted my head. "What would you do differently? Would you take it back, what, a week later? A month? Maybe after I'd been in there a couple of years? Eight fucking years, Lucy. That's what you took from me."

"I don't know what you want from me."

Two more steps back. I pushed away from the door and followed, hand sliding into my coat pocket to finger the syringe. "I want to know why you lied." I'd waited so long to ask that question, and the set of her jaw told me she wasn't going to answer. "You didn't even have the guts to face me at the trial." She'd refused to make eye contact, even once. That hadn't surprised me nearly as much as Sting's cold shoulder treatment. How he believed I'd do something so vile, to Lucy of all people, was beyond comprehension. She must have put on quite the performance for her family, because her testimony in court had been mechanical, as if she'd read from a script. She'd stripped everything from me in that courtroom. My career, friends, freedom, and she'd displayed no emotion while doing it.

"I-I can't do this now," she said, a tremor stringing her words together. "I have to go." Darting past me, she made a run for the door and managed to fling it open by the time I whirled around. That's when the duffle swinging on her shoulder caught my attention, and it dawned on me she was running. Because of the note I'd left on her door? Guess my mind-fuckery had done the trick, only I never expected her to take off. There was no way she could know what I had planned for her. Before she escaped the house, I shot an arm out and slammed the door shut, then pressed into her soft curves that fit perfectly against me.

"You're not going anywhere." Even in that heady moment, as adrenaline pumped through my veins, I hesitated. What I was about to do changed everything. I was about to become the criminal they'd accused me of being. But no one deserved retribution more than Lucy. The duffle slid from her shoulder, landing with a thump on the mud mat. She flattened both palms against the door, and I covered her hands with mine, sliding cool leather over warm skin. I wondered if the gloves worried her, if she sensed the danger I posed. I wedged a leg between hers, thigh nudging her ass, and electricity spiked, a current so hot my whole body sizzled. Was she aware of it too? Did she feel me prodding her backside?

"You need to leave," she ground out, but even as the words left her mouth, she relaxed in submission. She turned her head and peered at me through lashes slightly lowered, disguising what I might find in her chocolate depths. "Please, you've gotta go."

I wanted to take her then, fuck her right against the door. "Not a chance. I've waited too long for this." I latched the deadbolt again, satisfied with the decisive click that echoed off the walls, and pulled her further into the house.

"What are you doing?" she cried, tugging against the fingers I'd clamped around her arm. I stopped once we reached the hall.

"Where's the note I left?" I couldn't leave behind any evidence. "Did you show it to Sting?" She yanked her arm from my grasp.

"No, why?"

"Doesn't matter. I want it back."

"It's in my bedroom." She opened the first door on the right. Going by the clothing piled in haphazard fashion on the bed and the floor, she'd packed in a hurry. She crossed to her nightstand and withdrew the note from the drawer. I snatched it from her fingers, making her flinch, and pocketed the last piece of evidence.

"C'mon." I dragged her into the kitchen, my pulse rocketing, and my jeans grew uncomfortably tight as I shoved her into a chair. She gazed up at me, mouth open, messy curls partially obscuring her eyes, and I was so close to bending her over the table. _Patience._ I couldn't rush this, no matter how much I wanted to. "Don't move," I warned, pressing on her shoulders to make my point. I rummaged through the room, found a pen and paper, and slammed them on the table in front of her. "Write down what I say, word for word."

"Why?"

"Quit asking so many fucking questions." I forced the pen into her fingers, and she clutched it tight, hand hovering above the paper. The fury in her eyes wavered, replaced by confusion. She wasn't scared of me yet, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Natsu, what are you do—"

"Write 'I need some time. Don't worry or try to find me.'" Short and to the point. The less written, the less the authorities could dissect. I expected them to look at me as a person of interest in her disappearance, but I was prepared for that inevitability. Besides, they'd need probable cause and a warrant to search the island, and they wouldn't have either. Lower lip tucked between her teeth, she wrote out the words and paid careful attention to each letter, her hand trembling every so often. Once finished, she set the pen down, angled her head, and met my eyes. She didn't have to voice her alarm. Her expression was unmasked. Naively, she let me see everything.

"What happened to you?" she whispered. She must have sensed the darkness in me, but what she failed to understand was how it had always lurked, entrapped by a code I no longer lived by. She'd blown the padlock on that cage when she'd uttered three little words that ruined me. _He raped me._ The accusation rang through my mind, as loud as the clank of the prison cell doors when they slammed shut. I grabbed the syringe from my pocket. "What are you doing?" she cried, wide eyes locking onto the syringe. She jumped into motion and reached the foyer before I caught up to her. I wound an arm around her shoulders and pinned her against me. She bucked, kicked, and clawed, all the while letting loose a scream that made me so fucking hard I almost lost it. I uncapped the needle with my teeth and stabbed it into the side of her neck. An instant later, she went limp in my arms.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry for the anticipated update. Please advise there are many adult themes in this chapter so please read at your own discretion. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. Updates are Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Lucy POV

Consciousness washed over me in dream-like phases, the first a stifling darkness that pressed from every direction. I trembled as an inescapable chill crawled over my skin like icy tendrils, licking with relish. Hard, rough concrete chafed my body. My naked body. Acid rose in my throat, and I thought I was about to lose my last meal, but the observation only caused more panic to set in. I couldn't recall what I'd eaten. For a few horror-stricken moments, I couldn't recall anything at all. Then I remembered. Natsu's face burned in my head, his older, scruffier face. His unforgiving face.

The rest of my memories flooded back, and I jerked to total awareness. He'd jabbed a needle into my neck. Now, I felt it, his presence casting over me like a shadow waiting to swallow me whole. I tried to throw my hands up, my first instinct one of protection, but something heavy and cold and menacing kept my wrists locked together, stretched behind my head and chained to…something. I whimpered as my brain tried to pound out through my eyeballs.

"Good, you're awake." His voice shouldn't sound so sexy under the circumstances, but that gravelly timbre, barely above a whisper, registered low in my belly.

"Natsu?" I had to be hallucinating or dead. This couldn't be real. I sensed movement, a drift of air and swoosh of clothing, and a dim light switched on. Several seconds passed as I blinked my surroundings into focus. I was sprawled on the ground of some sort of cage, my hands secured to the bars. I yanked on my bindings, and the bite of chains to metal made me shudder. My gaze shifted, taking in the space beyond my prison, which was cloaked in shadow, and I thought I spied rows of wine bottles. I returned my attention to him, mouth hanging open as I tried to comprehend that he had me bound and naked.

Natsu stood on the other side and circled the bars with tan-knuckled fingers as he glared down at me. "You can try to escape if you want, but I think you're smart enough to know when you're fucked."

On some level, I'd known this day would come. The day I'd have to face him. The day he'd demand an explanation for what I'd done. I'd imagined screaming and yelling on his part. Furious righteousness. Never this. As he withdrew a set of keys and moved to the door of the cage, any hope of forgiveness I'd clung to vanished. I couldn't stop shaking as he stormed inside. "What do you want from me?" I asked,nervous about the answer, especially when I thought of how my nudity was on display.

"Do you really want to know what I want?" The corner of his mouth turned up in the legendary Dragneel smirk I remembered.

"Yes."

He bent and crawled over me, his knees settling at the apex of my thighs, and palmed the concrete on either side of my head. I licked my dry lips, acutely aware of how his clothing tickled my skin. That mere contact, the brush of denim on inner thigh, chased some of the chill away. "I want to fuck you," he said, and the way those words played off his tongue, with a sinister intent, made my heart jackhammer. His biceps flexed under the strain of supporting his weight, and my attention closed in on the tribal lines streaking out from underneath his sleeves. Breathtaking ink on hard man, winding down strong forearms to the back of his hands. He lowered his face, a tilt to his head, and commanded my gaze. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" I wasn't sure what I expected him to say or do, and I couldn't begin to measure how angry he was.

"I don't know what to say, Natsu."

"You don't have to say anything. I want what's mine, what I served time for."

I gulped. "You didn't have to kidnap me."

"You're right," he said, his lips hovering, almost touching mine. "I didn't have to kidnap you, but I wanted to, and I always get what I want. The last 8 fucking years notwithstanding, of course. You made sure of that." He shifted his weight to the side and brought a key to my wrists. The lock released, and I pulled free of the bars. "Get up," he said, rising to his feet. The floor tilted in a dizzying whirl, but once I regained my bearings, I stood before him, face-to-face with the man I'd wronged. He was just as gorgeous as ever, though his onyx eyes told me things he didn't voice. They hinted at how my actions had ruined a good person, because the one before me was anything but.

My heart ached for the guy I remembered, with his deep laugh and teasing grin. The same mouth that sneered at me now used to curve into the sexiest smile when he caught me staring. I'd fallen hard, enticed by the irresistible contradiction that was Natsu, a guy who displayed a quiet, gentle aura, yet used brute force on his opponents inside the cage. His only crime had been catching the eye of damaged goods.

"Why'd you do it, Lucy?" He moved, blocking the opening of the prison and hindering any chance I had to escape.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling sick as I recalled the day they arrested him. The media had splashed footage all over the news, and I'd never forget the way his head hung in shame as they hauled him outside my father's gym where he trained, hands cuffed at his back as if he were really guilty. Sometimes, merely being accused of something, even when innocent, could psyche a person into experiencing false guilt. Sting was an expert at that particular mental warfare.

"I asked you a question," he snapped.

The moment had arrived, the one I'd dreaded for years, but my mind drew a blank. What could I tell him? There was no excuse or explanation that would make this right. Even the truth didn't excuse sending an innocent man to prison. "I'm sorry," I said, fighting tears. "You have every right to be angry."

"Are you refusing to give me an explanation? Don't you think I deserve that much?"

I dipped my head, thick hair falling forward and shadowing the shame warming my cheeks. What he deserved was nothing less than the truth, but it caught in my throat, perpetually trapped by my need for him to never find out about Sting and me. "I can't give you one. It won't change anything."

"I see." He came closer, hands bunching at his sides, and ordered me to lower my arms. I backed up, hating how my body throbbed with indecent anticipation. My eyes burned, but I hadn't cried in a long time, not since my mother died and Natsu had embraced me while I lost it. That seemed like a lifetime ago. I blinked several times, willing the tears to dry up, but the sight of him lowered the gates. Something fundamental in him had changed. My fault. My doing.

A tear slipped free. With casual ease, he scooped it up and sucked the moisture off his finger. "Hands at your sides, now." I shook my head, and the gesture probably came off as defiant, but really, I just wanted to crawl into myself and die. The thought of putting my body on display for him sent me into a panic. This body betrayed me, it attracted the wrong attention and glorified in it. All it would take was one touch of his hand for him to realize how I wanted him.

"I-I don't understand."

"What do you not understand, Lucy? Sounds pretty clear to me."

"Don't do this," I pleaded, retreating until I bumped into the bars with nowhere to go. I hid myself as much as possible, thighs pressed together and palms covering my breasts. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his jeans.

"Please—" I couldn't breathe, couldn't budge even as adrenaline coursed through me.

"Do as you're told, or I'll make you wish you'd listened the first time." My arms weren't part of me. Somehow, all on their own, they dropped to my sides like two sticks of deadweight. His eyes traveled over me, starting at my feet and slowly lifting to my belly before roaming higher. "Look at the set of tits on you." I stood on a precipice of indecision, and taking the plunge could bring about two different outcomes. Fear, the kind that made your heart beat so fast, your mind tricked you into believing you were seconds from death. Or, I could take a free-fall into insanity. Natsu was, essentially, the love of my life. I could lie to everyone else, but not to myself. Nothing he did would change that. Even now, as his hand formed an angry fist around that belt, I came alive. Or maybe it was _because_ he posed such a threat. God, I was fucked up. I knew what he was capable of. A memory of swollen and bloody flesh sprang to mind, so vividly I could describe it in Technicolor. That last cage fight before they'd arrested him, the one to trump all others, burned in my memory.

His attention lingered on my breasts, and the mere heat of his stare branded me. Here was a man furious, a man few would blame for wanting to do horrible things to the person who'd wrecked his life. That person was me, and despite the threat in his expression, something about the way he caressed my body with a single glance reduced me to a puddle of need. It pooled between my legs until everything was tight and wet and hot. With careful patience, he feathered the back of his hand across my nipple, and I felt his touch everywhere, especially between my legs where I ached and burned from the inside out. Until now, I'd never known what it was like to be on the receiving end of Natsu's attention. He was the only guy capable of making me feel this way. Hot. Alive. Needy.

Our gazes entwined, and the feelings spearing through me were too intense to ignore. I'd lost count of the number of fantasies I'd had of this moment when he would touch me. Really touch me. Not as the kid he treated like a sister, not as the bothersome girl who mercilessly drove him to madness, but as a woman. A woman he wanted. His hand drifted lower, fingers skimming over quivering stomach muscles. Breath eluded me. The circumstances mattered no more. Fear evaporated into particles of mist that lingered but weren't powerful enough to douse the feelings I thought I'd buried years ago. All that mattered was his hand, lowering…lowering still. I clenched my thighs to keep from spreading them and braced my back against the bars, hands balled at my sides. His body pressed into mine, and I closed my eyes, cataloging each sensation from the way his chest flattened my breasts to the heat of his thighs. He lifted my arms above my head and curled my fingers around the bars.

"Don't move," he growled, hands squeezing one last time before falling away. "You are such a fucking tease." His words drifted across my cheek. "I never touched you. No matter how much—" Abruptly, he sprang away as if I'd burned him. "I never touched you." He reached for the belt that must have fallen to the concrete. "You destroyed my life," he said, fingers playing with the buckle. "I was this close to making it to the GMG, and you snatched it from me." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that, you took my freedom, my reputation. You fucking took everything, Lucy. I have to register as a sex offender now? Did you know that?"

"I'm sorr—" The belt landed across my breasts hard, and I cried out as the breath stole from my lungs. My arms dropped, automatically moving to protect, but he struck again with a powerful crack. I gasped and clung to the bars as my nipples burned.

"Don't you dare tell me you're sorry! You've had eight fucking years to be sorry, but you left me there to rot." The belt slid to his feet, and he kicked my legs apart before shoving a finger inside me. My eyes grew wide as he probed me, though his jerky thrusts were far from gentle. "I rotted while you dated that jerk who probably doesn't know the first thing about setting you off." He added three more fingers, wrecking my concentration, his touch stretching and reaching higher. "Did he make you feel this good?" I squeezed my eyes shut and began counting. Five in, hold, five out. Repeat. "Answer me!"

"He didn't." Hibikis' kisses and wandering hands had made me feel nothing, but Natsu…he made me feel everything. I swallowed past the self-loathing constricting my throat, tried to ignore the slippery plunder of his fingers, but a strangled moan escaped anyway.

"Do you want me to stop?"

 _Yes_. "No." I extended to my toes, fingers gripping the bars for support, and barely breathed as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit. "Natsu!" I pushed my pelvis against his hand even as tears leaked down my face. His mouth opened over my throat, and I inhaled sharply, my pulse throbbing an erratic beat underneath his tongue. This wasn't happening. My body wasn't betraying me again. No, no, no, no…

"I still remember how to touch a woman," he said. "I bet my fingers are the best fuck you've had. Can you imagine my tongue on you?" He licked up my throat, and I whimpered, imagining it all too well. I saw myself on my back, legs spread wide and his salmon head disappearing between quaking thighs. The visual was too much, and I hurtled into deep space. I saw the celestial heavens.

"I'm coming," I sobbed.

"Yes, you are, sweetheart. Enjoy it because it won't happen again." I clawed at his dark T-shirt, my spine bowing and knees threatening to give. The orgasm came in waves around his fingers, each one more intense than the last, and each one filled my heart with so much shame my chest was heavy with it. Riding the waves, I howled his name, my cries resembling a cat in the throes. Afterward, as my heartbeat slowed, I collapsed to the floor. "You're at my mercy," he said, crouching to eye level. "You don't eat unless I allow it, you don't drink. You don't get clothes or a shower or even a bed to sleep in unless I say so. I control every piece of you, including your fucking vagina." I wrenched my head to the side, pained by the hardened features of his beautiful face, but he pressed his fingers into my jaw and forced me to meet his gaze. "You're going to earn every damn privilege known to man. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." The force of his fury penetrated deep, and I would have agreed to anything in that moment.

"You are nothing to me, Lucy. You will never be more than a piece of ass." My heart cracked as he let go, forming a jagged chasm I feared would forever remain. I watched him walk away, tears sliding down my cheeks, one after the other in an endless stream of regret. He exited the prison without looking back and the lock clicked into place with an unsettling echo. He bent to retrieve a pile of neatly folded clothing—my clothing, by the looks of it—and then climbed a staircase. An instant later, the light shut off. Total blackness. I couldn't stop crying. Not because I was scared. Not because he'd just humiliated me. I muffled heaving sobs into my palms because his utter contempt sliced to my soul. And now I knew.

He was going to break me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Here is a special two chapter update. Loved all the reviews. Please advise there are many adult themes in this chapter so please read at your own discretion. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 4: Natsu POV

I'd just lied through my fucking teeth. She did mean something, which was why she was down in that prison. If she meant nothing, I wouldn't have wanted her in the first place. The musky scent of her sex lingered on my skin, and I sucked a finger into my mouth, unable to resist tasting her. I couldn't wait to spread those thighs, thumbs biting into soft skin, and bury my tongue in her heat.

Before she sent me away, I'd done my damnedest to do the honorable thing by keeping my distance, though there'd been times I'd slipped up. Like the time she baited me into a game of pool by implying she was unbeatable. We'd played a fiercely competitive game, all the while bantering about horror movies and alternative rock music. She loved the horror and loathed the rock. Not surprising, since she adored the piano. I'd smoked her the first game. During the second, she conceded and asked for my help in positioning her for the end shot. That was the first time I acknowledged the familiar tingle rushing through me as I bent over her, my hand sliding along hers and guiding her to set up the shot that would win her the game. I'd also realized, too late, how she'd used the game as a ploy to get close to me. We'd both jumped a foot apart when Sting's boots thumped down the stairs, and our faces must have given us away because he was furious. The protective thumb he held over her wasn't new. Guys couldn't go near her without him losing it, but he should have known better when it came to me. Beyond helping her with a game of pool, I would have never crossed that line. Twenty-one and fifteen didn't mix. I didn't touch her again, until the day, a few weeks later, when she had a total meltdown after her mom's funeral. I'd needed her in my arms, needed to absorb some of her pain.

Leaning my head against the cellar door, I let my breath even out as a tremor seized my body, and the memory of our history together vanished. I fought the urge to go back down there and finish what I'd started. My dick throbbed with the need, though I held back. I was still too fucking raw, and I didn't want to make the kind of mistake that proved fatal. With the visual I had going through my mind—hands wrapped around her delicate throat as I emptied eight years of pent-up rage and desire into her—I knew I couldn't rush this. Control was imperative. But shit, I wanted to fuck her. I waited, listening for a while, but she didn't make a sound, and I had to give her credit. I'd left her in total darkness, naked, and no doubt, freezing. These next few days were going to be hell compared to her pampered princess life. I'd scared the utter crap out of her, and some sick part of me rejoiced in reducing her to nothing. She didn't even have a bucket to piss in.

Watching her cower had been the biggest rush of my life, and that was saying a lot, considering I used to live for pummeling bodies inside the cage. Maybe it was because I'd fixated on her in prison. At first, nothing but hatred consumed me, but then as my incarceration started playing with my mind, I'd let my imagination run wild. I'd fucked her every way possible, and in each scenario, she'd sobbed and pleaded for me to stop. I'd envisioned sexually torturing her in ways no sane, normal man should be able put into words. Those fantasies kept me on the brink of sanity, especially during the endless weeks I'd spent in the hole, bereft of interaction with humans and confined to a dark cell smaller than most bathrooms for twenty-three hours a day.

When I looked in the mirror these days, I didn't recognize the man staring back. The guy who'd wiped the sorrow from her face the day she buried her mother, absorbing liquid grief that dripped from her eyes in despair, was gone, replaced by a man who thrilled in eliciting her tears. Darkness turned at the core of my being, a turbulent need that had simmered for years. No one knew of my fucked up nature better than my old cellmate Gray. As I entered the kitchen, her clothes weighing heavily in my hands, he watched me carefully from the kitchen table as I disposed of them.

"Did you fuck her yet?" That was the thing I liked most about him—he didn't beat around the bush. He put everything out there without reservation.

As I prepared dinner, I didn't answer, and he didn't speak at first. His silence wasn't uncomfortable. We'd spent hours upon hours in the same cell with nothing but silence and each other. We'd forged an alliance after I'd beaten the shit out of his would-be killer in prison. He owed me, or so he insisted, and when they paroled him two years ago, he'd set out to repay the debt by keeping tabs on Lucy. He'd also taken care of the island since the deed transferred to my name. In exchange, I gave him a place to live. After last night, I considered the debt more than paid. He'd helped drag Lucy's limp body from her car to mine, then we'd shared a minute of silence as we watched her Volvo sink into the river.

"Well, did ya?" he pressed, breaking into my recollection of how satisfying it'd been to follow through with my plan. I gave him a single glance, and he laughed. "Man, you're whipped. I can't believe you didn't fuck her yet."

"I didn't say a word, so how do you know if I fucked her or not?"

"I know you," he said, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead. "You go all quiet and shit when you don't wanna talk. Lucy Heartfilia Eucliffe has been our topic of choice for years. What the fuck is the holdup, man?"

"I don't know. I can't go there yet." I dropped my head with a sigh. Going where I wanted to go would probably turn what was left of me to stone.

"'Cause you're not a rapist. I told you so. No way can you do that to her. Not after what you've been through."

"No, believe me—I want to go there." I returned my attention to the oven and slid the chicken onto the rack. "She wanted it too much."

"You want her to put up a fight?" Blood rushed to my cock, confirming his theory. "I'm fucking whacked."

"No, you just want payback. Ain't nothing wrong with that." Thanks to Lucy, I knew firsthand what it was like to be helpless, though I hadn't made a single sound of defeat once in the last eight years. Not when they closed the bars on me for something I didn't do, not when other inmates jumped me, held me down, and took turns ramming into my ass. Not even when my father died and I'd been denied the chance to go to his funeral.

I hated to consider what he'd think of me now, how much shame calling me his son would bring him. I'd taken the island he'd willed to me, the one place I equated with happy summertime memories during my childhood, and had turned it into my own personal prison. No amount of guilt or shame would change what I wanted most—to unleash the same torment I'd experienced on my single prisoner.

The way she looked at me though, the way she responded, really pissed me off. I wanted a fight. I wanted her fingernails digging into me. I wanted her kicking and screaming and begging for mercy. I wanted her tears and her fucking pain. "Payback is one thing, but the things I want to do to her…"

Gray settled his chin in his hand, and a wide grin split his face. "Have you forgotten we used to jack off in the same cell? You also talk in your sleep. I know what you want to do to that girl. I just never thought you'd have the balls to go through with it."

"Trust me, my balls aren't the problem. And she's not a girl anymore."

"All the better. What are you waiting for? Go fuck her rough-like. Find the right buttons and push the fuck outta them. Hell, if you don't want her, I'll take her." He only said it to goad me, and it worked.

"Stay away from her," I said with a growl.

Gray held up his hands. "'Nough said. I'm a firm believer in the code."

"What code?"

"The leave-my-woman-the-fuck-alone code. You want her? She's all yours." He pushed up from the table. "I've gotta be back in town." He paused with a wicked grin. "Got plans tonight."

"Seriously?" I arched a brow, surprised because Gray had issues when it came to women. Being with a woman usually involved physical contact, and he couldn't stand to be touched. "Plans as in a date?"

"Uh-huh."

"With a woman?" He leveled me with a stare.

"Yes, with a woman."

"Hey, I'm just surprised, is all. Whatever gets you out there, man."

"Goes both ways. You need to get down there and fuck her senseless. Eight years is a long time to wait." Shit. He was good at turning a conversation on its head. He lifted his jacket off the back of the chair. "Gotta work tomorrow, so I won't be too late."

My younger brother Happy had given Gray a job when no one else in the area would touch a felon. I also put in hours at Drageel Vineyards, but it was mostly to uphold the illusion I was a positive contributing citizen. I didn't need to work, thanks to my inheritance. However, idleness drove me nuts, made me want to rip into something, and Lucy had ruined my career as a fighter, so working off steam the way I used to wasn't an option. A punching bag didn't deliver the same gratifying release as pounding flesh. Since I'd taken her though, my presence at the winery was about to become nonexistent, at least for a while.

"Seriously, Natsu. Fuck the shit outta her."

"Is that an order?"

"Damn right. You've earned a piece of that." I was one sick SOB because I felt he was right.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Here is another update. Loved all the reviews so far. All of your thoughts make me feel so great that you guys took an interest in my story. This chapter so far is the longest. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 5: Lucy POV

The first time I saw Natsu Dragneel, he was beating the crap out of my brother. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but watching through the inexperienced eyes of a 13-year-old, even I'd realized Sting didn't stand a chance. Natsu was all rippling muscle, sweat dripping down his biceps as he tightened his choke hold. Let me back up here. They hadn't really been fighting. They'd been in the middle of an intense sparring match at one of the gyms our father owned. Fuck if I'd cared though. I couldn't take my eyes off Natsu. His salmon wild hair, plastered to his forehead from sweat, had curled slightly above squinted green eyes. I remembered Mom's stiff posture and the rigid set of her back as we stood watching. Her mouth had fallen open, as if she were this close to shouting "let him go!" We'd come in on the tail end of the session, and Mom should have known better. She never could stomach watching Sting get his balls handed to him. Natsu hadn't just handed them over—he'd shoved them down his throat.

That was the day he and Sting became best friends. Predictably so, that was also the day I developed the biggest crush on Natsu. By the time I entered my freshman year of high school, I became Miss Popularity because of two reasons: one, I was a Eucliffe—the adopted daughter of Weisslogia Eucliffe, famous for his impressive record in the GMG; and two, I was sister to rising star Sting Eucliffe. Having a connection to Natsu Dragneel, who had surpassed my brother in skill, tenacity, and ruthlessness in the business sealed my fate. I became an "it" girl.

I hated "it" girls, but they didn't seem fazed by my blatant indifference, as not one of them passed up an opportunity to hang out at my house. They were in it for the testosterone, and I didn't really care, so long as they kept their hands off Natsu. He might have been six years my senior, but in my head, he was mine, though someone forgot to tell him. However, Sting noticed me noticing his best friend, and that's when the jealousy began, the dangerous possessiveness. Their friendship had shifted to more of a competitive nature.

Ever since our parents married, Sting and I had been tight, probably closer than most blood related siblings. We often slept in the same bed, huddled under the covers when Dad's drinking got out of hand, or when my mom had another episodic break that necessitated a trip to the mental ward. Their marriage had crumbled under screams that pierced ears too young to understand the words being launched through the air like weapons of mass destruction. Having Sting at my side calmed me, but as I grew older, I realized how off our relationship was, especially once Natsu's presence got under Sting's skin, and my brother had morphed into a stranger before my eyes.

The police arrested the wrong guy, and I let them. In hindsight, I had no one to blame but myself for my current predicament—naked and freezing, ass chafed from the concrete, utterly humiliated. I almost pissed myself every time something scampered in the darkness. How silly to be scared of rodents when a man I once knew so well held me prisoner. A door opened unexpectedly, and the overhead light came on. I squinted, the dim bulb too bright on eyes accustomed to nothing but suppressing blackness. Natsu stomped down the stairs and halted outside the cage.

I couldn't say how much time had passed since I'd awakened in this hellhole, but if I had to guess by the coarse hair on my legs, the smell of unbathed skin, and the tangled, greasy mess on my head, I'd say about three days. I'd lost count of his visits. The first was the most notable, as he'd tossed a bucket to the ground for me to do my business in, left a tray of food and a bottle of water next to it, and exited without a single response to my pleas. The visits that followed wielded the same results, and I stopped begging, accepting I might be down here for a while.

Crouched in the corner, I draped my arms around shaking legs. "I-I'm cold," I said through chattering teeth. "Can I have a blanket? Please?"

He unlocked the door and sauntered inside. "I spent weeks in the hole, naked just like you. Do you think I got a blanket?" He knelt and lifted my chin. "I usually got a beat down before they threw me in, and some days, they didn't even feed me." His mouth flattened into a grim line. "Lucky for you, I'm not as nasty as the guards who had it out for me."

I stared, overcome by the guilt that chiseled off another piece of my heart. I wished I could comfort him, erase the last eight years. What an impossible idea. "What do you want with me?" I asked. "Do you want to hurt me? Fuck me?" Whatever he was going to do, I hoped he'd just do it. The waiting made me a nervous wreck.

"You took eight years of my life. I think it's only fair I take eight of yours."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. His words turned in the pit of my stomach like acid. "You're going to keep me here for eight years?"

He tightened his hold on my chin. "Are you hungry?" His refusal to answer didn't escape me. Something felt different about this visit. He was deviating from his routine, and I wasn't sure what it meant. The thought of eating made me nauseous, but I wasn't about to argue with him. Maybe he'd finally let me out.

"Yes. I need to use the restroom too." I prayed he wouldn't make me use the disgusting bucket again. Even from the other side of the cell, the stench of port-a-potty contaminated the air.

He stepped back and gestured toward that awful thing. "Better go then."

I climbed to my feet and stretched the deep ache from my body, then I suffered the indignity of squatting over the bucket while he watched, inked arms crossed as a corner of his mouth turned up. Once I'd relieved my bladder, I stood, unsure of where to put my hands. If I folded them over my chest, I might anger him, so I let them dangle at my sides.

"Follow me," he said, "and don't do anything stupid unless you want to end up back down here."

I scurried up the stairs after him, each step landing with uncertainty. We entered a large kitchen where a burst of sunshine streamed through the skylight. Dark clouds roiled, a sign another storm threatened on the horizon and the rays were only a temporary reprieve. I searched the area beyond the windows and found thick and sodden greenery outside. A door off the kitchen drew my attention, and I wondered what my odds were of making it outside before he grabbed me.

I was peeking into the adjacent living room, as the cabin took advantage of an open floor plan, when he said, "You reek. Shower's that way." He indicated a bathroom straight ahead and to the left of the dining table. "Towel's on the rack. You've got five minutes before I come in after you."

I hurried inside and plopped down on the toilet, shaking too much to do anything else. I lowered my head between my knees and breathed deep. Five in, hold, five out. Repeat. By the time I stood on jittery legs, I'd lost at least two of my five minutes. Another thirty seconds passed as I puzzled over how to escape, but the bathroom was a windowless cubicle with no way out. As I switched on the shower and stepped inside the stall, I wondered where I'd go if I did manage to break free. I'd been an instant away from leaving my house, duffle packed, when he'd shown up. How stupid, considering I hadn't put together even the flimsiest of plans, and if Sting ever tracked me down…I didn't want to think of how he'd punish me for running.

A shiver went through me, and I quickly washed up before drying off with a towel. Despite spending the last few days in the nude, exiting the bathroom sans-clothing felt exceptionally violating. I finger-combed some of the tangles from my dark locks and returned to the dining area. Natsu had his back to me, bent over with his head in the refrigerator, and I almost ran for it, except fear of what he'd do if I failed paralyzed me. But the real reason I didn't run was harder to stomach. I wasn't ready to leave. Some masochistic shred of my being didn't want to walk away from him yet, even though staying defied logic and common sense. _Reality check, Lucy. He's kidnapped you, drugged you, and he's obviously not right in the head. Run for it, stupid!_ But running for it meant arriving back at square one. Still, my pride wouldn't let me lay down without a fight. "My father will find me."

He pulled out a carton of orange juice and turned around. "No one's looking for you, so you might as well take a seat and get comfortable."

I folded my arms. "You should know better. You spent enough time with my dad. You know how dogged he can be." Especially when it came to his kids, Sting in particular.

Setting the juice down, he picked up a paper and shoved it across the table. Slowly, and with worsening dread gnawing my gut, I picked it up and read the headline: **Magnolia woman declared dead after car is found in the Corcus River.** I collapsed into a chair, thoughts buzzing in dizzying speed, and the paper fluttered to the table. Dad and I often navigated a rocky relationship, but even so, the news would devastate him, and Sting would go insane knowing I was gone. Wait…he thought I was dead. Seconds slipped by as the ramifications sank in, and I worked it from every angle. If he believed I'd been killed, then he'd have no reason to come after me, and no reason to go after Natsu. But that still didn't give Natsu the right to keep me here and torture me. "You have to let me go." Surely, he didn't intend to keep me locked in this cabin, or God forbid, the horrible cellar, for eight years.

"You're not going anywhere," he said through clenched teeth, "so get that through your head."

"The guy I remember would never do this."

"The guy you remember is as gone as you are to the world." He yanked me up by my wet hair. "You can either learn that the easy way or the hard way."

"And this is the hard way?" I asked, flinching as his fingers tightened. "Kidnapping me? Stripping me? Locking me up?"

"You sent me to hell, Lucy. I'm just returning the favor." He let go, and I sank into my seat again as his words echoed through my heart.

"Will you at least give my clothes back? Please," I begged, sliding my hands under my thighs, as the urge to cover myself nearly overpowered me. His gaze settled on my breasts, and I felt my nipples harden.

"I like the view. Eight years is a long time to go without seeing a pair of tits. You'll get clothes when I'm good and ready." He set a plate of food in front of me, and the smell of scrambled eggs, something that had always reminded me of wet dog when I cooked them, turned my stomach.

"I'm not hungry."

He sat across from me, his own plate in front of him. "It's not optional. Eat your damn food."

Rage erupted from me, refusing to be contained, and I had to act, had to do something, if only to alleviate the madness festering inside me. I knocked the plate off the table, and though I was disappointed it failed to shatter, the way the food spattered the floor gave some satisfaction. He rubbed the stubble that shadowed his jaw, as if contemplating, and rose from his chair. He rounded the table, furious onyx eyes narrowed, and I grabbed my seat to keep from bolting. Oh God. I'd never been more sorry about losing my temper. He settled next to me, and I couldn't comprehend what happened next. One second I was sitting upright, and the next he'd pulled me over his lap.

His palm came down fast and hard, but I didn't make a sound, didn't even fight him. I was too shocked, too aware of him underneath me as his thighs burned into my abdomen. His hand stalled on my ass, lightly massaging, then he continued spanking me, each smack landing with more intensity than the last. He set me upright again, and only then did I register the deep sting in my bottom. He reclaimed the seat across from me, and I opened my mouth but nothing came out. All I could do was stare. There were no words, no fits or hysterics, just pure stunned silence on my part.

"If you think a tantrum will get you out of eating, you're sorely mistaken." He pointed at my breakfast on the floor. "Get down there and eat it."

"I'm not a fucking dog."

He jumped from his chair so fast, I didn't have a chance to bolt. His fingers pressed into my jaw. "Last chance before I use that on you." He forced my gaze to the thick paddle hanging on the wall by the door. "And trust me, that sucker is unbearable, so unless you want to experience it firsthand, get your ass on the floor and eat your breakfast. I won't tolerate you starving yourself. Not under my roof."

Warmth flooded my face as I slid from the chair to my knees, and as I used my hands to shovel in mouthfuls of eggs, the same old shame surfaced. It was never far, always hidden beneath layers of forged normalcy. "I haven't had a problem with that in six months," I said, despising the weak quality of my voice. The eggs didn't want to go down, and I almost gagged. The potatoes weren't much better.

"Good, and we're going to keep it that way."

"How did you know?" I asked. He'd just been released from prison, so how had he found out about my problem with anorexia?

"I know everything about you."

Our eyes connected and held, and I searched for the truth, because surely he didn't mean _everything_. Seconds ticked past, each one whittling away my thin grasp on sanity. I held my breath, horrified by the possibility that he _knew_. He broke our stare, his expression unchanged, and I exhaled in relief. Silence ensued, interrupted by the scrape of his fork against china, but it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of disquiet that made every second feel like an eternity. My mind was numb. I hadn't processed, and I wasn't ready to do so. "Why did you starve yourself?" he asked, jerking me to awareness.

I had no idea how to explain. I couldn't explain, not without going into things I didn't want to reveal, like how after the first inpatient treatment, I'd relapsed on purpose because being locked inside that facility had been the most peaceful three months I'd experienced in a long time. My treatment had kept Sting away. "I don't know."

"Bullshit."

I scooped up a handful of potatoes. "It started after…" I began, raising my eyes to his, "after you went away."

"Your eating disorder is my fault then?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I was dealing with a lot of stuff and—"

"Save it, Lucy. I'm sure you were really struggling in your daddy's mansion, going out on the weekends with boyfriends and friends, loading up your closets with expensive clothes. Spare me the sob story, 'cause I'm not buying."

"Why'd you ask then?" With a tilt of my head, I raised my brows.

"Don't get smart with me. I thought you might actually tell the truth for once in your life." He pushed back from the table. "Clear the table and load the dishwasher." He swept a hand toward the messy floor. "And clean up this mess."

Indignation rose, but I kept my mouth shut. Rising to my feet, I grabbed my plate from the floor and his from the table before making my way to the sink. I took my time scrubbing the few dishes from breakfast, and after I'd loaded them into the dishwasher, I slammed the door, turned around, and found him watching me. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and biceps bulging. "I need a broom." He fetched one from a closet near the door leading to God knew where. Where the hell had he taken me? I saw nothing but trees, though the distinct hum of a highway gave me hope that help existed beyond all the thick foliage. He shoved the broom into my hands, and our fingers brushed together—the kind of touch that lingered enough to make me shiver. I swallowed hard and swept up the mess, sensing him behind me the whole time. His warm palms settled on my hips, fingers curling around to my front. I swayed into his body.

"Can…can I ask you something, Natsu?"

"You can ask."

"Have you…" My voice faltered, and I had to swallow hard in order to force the question out. "Have you had sex since getting out?"

He trembled. "No," he groaned as he dipped a finger inside me, and I quaked at the thought that he hadn't been with anyone in such a long time. "Now it's my turn to ask you something," he said. "Just how badly do you want me to fuck you?"

A whimper escaped. It was no secret my body wanted him, had always wanted him. But me, the woman he'd kidnapped, she _didn't_ want him. That's what I told myself, anyway. "You wanted it back then too."

With a growl, he pushed me away. "I don't want you like this."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I turned to face him, the broom handle keeping me upright.

"It means I don't want you willing." He knocked the broom to the floor and gripped my wrists. In the rays of the sun peeking through the skylight, my scars stood out as lines of abstract art on my forearms, sketched in blood by my inability to cope with stress. He pulled out my arms and put the marred skin on display. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to pull away, but he wouldn't let me.

"Who did this?"

"No one."

He jerked me close, and his immovable hands framed my cheeks. "Who. Did. This?"

"I did."

For the first time since he'd re-entered my life, he appeared speechless. His gaze scoured my face, as if looking for answers. "Why?"

I shook my head, unable to speak, scared he'd see too much. But I couldn't look away. I didn't want to look away. I wanted to bathe in the gentleness breaking through in that instant when I glimpsed the old Natsu. He blinked and the moment shattered, his emotions going into lockdown. Without another word, he dragged me toward the cellar. "Don't put me back down there," I pleaded. He flung open the door and herded me down the stairs. I was shaking too much to fight. Back in the cage, he fastened shackles around my wrists and jerked my arms high, attaching the chain to a hook in the ceiling.

"This should keep you out of trouble for a while." He held my chin, fingers bruising my jaw. "Every time you rebel, this is where you'll end up. Learn to obey me, and we'll get along fine." And that's how he left me. Alone, cold, and in the dark, with my arms suspended above my head.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, but it is the holidays. I hoped you all had a great Thanksgiving. Loved all the reviews, they had me laughing. Some of you guys had great arguments. All of your thoughts make me feel so great that you guys took an interest in my story. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 6: Natsu POV

Corcous, population 1,379 and half of them thought I was guilty as fuck. The place still felt like home, in spite of the busybodies who wanted to see me rot in jail until I was nothing but bones for what I'd done to that "poor girl." They were the ones who sneered at my reputation as Natsu "Salamander" Dragneel from my fighting days. They were the ones who sensed something was off about me. But others, most people who'd had connections to my family for decades, or people who'd known me in high school, they believed I was innocent. Unlike the crowd that condemned me, they saw past Lucy's lie. They knew me, or so they believed.

Either way, it was too much drama, so I avoided town as much as possible, save for the weekly trip to the post office and my work at the vineyard. Despite the town gossip, people mostly left me alone. I imagined it was difficult to harass a guy on an island. As I sorted through a stack of mail, mostly bills and advertisements, someone uttered my name. Locking the P.O. Box, I swiveled my head in time to see a white haired whirl around and push the door open. She grabbed the hand of the kid at her side and ushered him outdoors, as if the place were about to burn to the ground. I folded my mail inside an advertisement for local businesses and glanced through the front window, catching the woman's profile as she walked away. My heart almost stopped. I'd recognize that stubborn jaw anywhere. I rushed after her, the door closing with a thud upon my exit, and spotted her a few feet down the sidewalk. She opened the back door of a white BMW, and in hushed tones, hurried the kid to get inside and buckle up.

"Lisanna!"She lurched upright, and her deep, blue eyes met mine. Yeah, I remembered those eyes, especially how they bored into mine during sex. Lisanna had never been the shy closed-eyes-during-sex kind of girl, and that had been the biggest slammed the door and rounded the hood to the driver's side.

"I heard you were back," she said. "Seeing you caught me off guard. I shouldn't have said your name."

I stuffed the mail into my back pocket and sauntered to her side. "Why the hell not?"

With a sigh, she paused, one hand on the door handle. "C'mon, things didn't end well. You made it clear you never wanted to see me again."

"Lis," I said, voice suddenly wobbly as I slid a hand onto her shoulder. I had to touch her. After eight damn years, I needed to. "I didn't want you waiting around for me."

She opened the door and wedged it between us. "Well, I didn't wait around, so you have nothing to worry about." She held out her left hand, and my eyes widened at the huge rock on her finger. "I'm getting married in a few weeks."

It was disconcerting to see how much things had changed while I was away. While time had all but stopped inside that prison, the world kept turning without me. "So I see," I said, giving in to a weak instance of self-pity. I moved around the door and put one hand on the window and the other on the roof of the car. Her body stilled, but she had nowhere to go, and shit, just being this close to her brought everything back, all the summer nights we'd spent twisted in sheets, fan blowing hot air on bodies slick with sweat.

"I didn't realize you were back in town," I said. "Figured you worked in some swanky office in downtown Magnolia by now. When did you come back?" "Last year, when Bickslow asked me to marry him."

I quirked a brow. "Wait, you're not talking about Bickslow Brittia." She nodded. I tried not to grit my teeth but failed. How the fuck had that asswipe gotten tangled with my ex? He'd followed her around like a horn dog all through high school, and that was only half of it. The guy had been the cruelest bully in town, and he'd hated me down to my toes for looking out for a few of the kids he'd abused on a daily basis. He'd also despised me because of my friendship with Lisanna.

"You know he's the sheriff now, right?" she asked.

Wonderful. She was marrying a fucking bully-turned-sheriff. If I didn't get Lucy under control soon, he might be slapping cuffs on me in the future, and I could only imagine the thrill he'd get at arresting me. "I guess congratulations are in order." I tilted my head, one brow raised.

"I guess so," she said, her gaze veering to the backseat of the car. "I've really gotta go. It was good to see you again, Natsu." Her voice softened, the same breathless quality I recalled from years ago. She slid into the driver's seat, and that was when the kid in the back called her "Mom" and asked what they were having for dinner. I froze as it dawned on me. I'd been so focused on Lisanna, part of me was still thinking of her as the twenty-year-old girl I'd known, that I'd unconsciously written the kid off as a nephew, or perhaps a child of a friend. But he was _hers_. As she moved to pull the door shut, I shot out a hand and blocked her. Peeking into the backseat, I laid eyes on the kid for the first time. Really looked at him. Fuck. He was a spitting image of my childhood photos except for the white hair.

"How old is he, Lisanna?"

Her body slumped, and with a loud sigh, she said, "Seven, and I know what you're thinking. I was going to tell you. Swear to God I was, but now is not the time." Her eyes pleaded with me. "Can we meet for dinner? In about an hour?" I couldn't speak at first. I could have said so many things, but the truth hit me like a sledgehammer. Unless I was reading her wrong, or misunderstanding, she was telling me I had a son. "Natsu?"

"An hour?" I asked, giving myself a mental shake.

"Yeah, I'll meet you at Yajima's Cafe. You remember where that is, right?"

"I remember."

She pulled the door shut, and this time I let her. I stood frozen in that spot long after she pulled away from the curb, the kid's green eyes burning a hole in my mind. His curious eyes that reminded me so much of my own. Had he seen it too, or was he too young to pick up on the resemblance? Someone jostled me to awareness, and from the pinch of disproval on the woman's face, she must have been in the "he should rot in prison" camp. "Sorry," I mumbled, then shook my head because I'd just apologized to a judgmental broad for simply standing in public. Fuck these people. I wandered down the main drag of the town until I reached the highway and stepped onto the shoulder. Checking my watch, I began walking to kill time before I met up with Lisanna. The idea of that meeting sent my pulse racing. I wondered what he was like. Had he asked about me? Hell, I didn't even know his name.

Behind me, the sun dipped toward the horizon, and the shadow of the island emerged in the river up ahead. The private piece of land, situated on the side of the Corcous River, had been in my family for generations. My mother split when I was young, and my anger over her absence had slowly burned until it flared during my teens. Dad tried to stem my violent tendencies by enrolling me into martial arts classes. He'd thought if I learned to fight with respect and a code of ethics, it would curb my thirst to pound on people. It wasn't like I'd gone around beating on everyone, just the idiots who deserved it, but he'd had the right idea. Those lessons had probably saved my ass.

I wondered if my son—even thinking of him as mine set my head spinning—was angry over the gaping hole I should have filled all these years. Cars whizzed past, and for some strange reason, the hum of traffic settled my nerves. The island grew larger as the distance narrowed. I put the issue of fatherhood on the back burner and wondered how Lucy was handling being locked up in the dark, her naked body shivering. I imagined her legs shaking, thought of how out-of-control she must feel, strung up on her toes and knowing she was at my mercy. My jeans grew unbearably tight. Such helplessness shouldn't turn me on so fucking much, but it did. Always had. My dad's efforts to teach me right from wrong hadn't touched on sexual deviance.

The mountains had turned to dusky blue against an orange backdrop by the time I turned around and retraced my steps back to town. Yajima's Cafe, known for their unique dishes and secret sauces that couldn't be duplicated anywhere else, was boisterous with activity. The restaurant had never suffered for business. That hadn't changed in my absence, though so much about the town had, like the remodeled school, or how the post office no longer shared space with Erza's Sweets Shop. I entered, nodded at the waitress, and told her I was there to meet someone. I found Lisanna sitting by herself at a corner table, nursing a beer. Candles lit the wooden tables, giving an intimate feel to the place, though the peanut shells covering the floor spoke of the casual setting. I slid into the chair across from her. "Sorry, I'm late." I'd lost track of time, plus, I'd needed several minutes to convince my dick to settle down. No way was I walking in to meet Lisanna with a raging hard-on.

"No problem. I was enjoying the quiet. Zeref can be a handful, and I don't get much 'me' time."

"Zeref?"

She dipped her head, and a curtain of blond hair obscured the left side of her face. "I named him after you." Zeref, my middle name.

How was it possible I'd had a son all this time, one who shared my name even, yet I'd known nothing about him? Seven years of missed birthdays, milestones, laughter and tears. Thankfully, the waitress arrived to take our orders, and as Nikki asked about the daily specials, I took a few seconds to collect myself. I was a father. A dad. I had a kid. If I told myself that enough times, maybe it would sink in.

The waitress, a young brunette on the short side, turned to me and did a double take. "I thought you looked familiar. You're Natsu Dragneel. My boyfriend is a huge fan. He never believed you raped that girl." She winked at me. "A lot of people around here don't." Unfortunately, a lot of people still did. I autographed a napkin for her and gave her my order. Once she left, thick silence fell over us.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid. "You should've told me, Lis."

"What good would it have done?" She leaned back and crossed her arms. "You were locked up, and you weren't getting out anytime soon. Besides, let's not delude ourselves. We were never serious. Getting pregnant…it just happened. I can't say it was a mistake because I wouldn't have Zeref, but we never meant for it to happen."

I picked up a spoon and swirled the ice chips in my water glass. "I actually thought I'd marry you someday."

She laughed. "C'mon, Natsu. We were kids back then." And now we had a kid together. Neither of us spoke the words, though they hung in the air, as potent as the spices from the restaurant's kitchen. "We both know someday wouldn't have come," she continued. "You had your whole career in front of you before…" She lowered her head, and I despised how she didn't say the words.

"Do you think I did it?"

"I told you a long time ago I knew you wouldn't do something like that." The corner of her mouth curled. "You never needed to force yourself on anyone. You had women begging at your feet."

I tried not to squirm in my seat. Ironically, I had a naked woman, bound and locked up at that precise moment, just waiting for me to hold her down and fuck her hard. Lisanna had no idea who I was. Who I'd become. She should have, though. She'd been the only woman who'd ever allowed me to get rough with her. I'd explored some of my baser urges with her, and she'd let me. She'd gotten off on it as much as I had. That's why we'd worked. Our deep friendship had kept the drama to a minimum. We truly had been friends with benefits. Until I was arrested. And now, to find out my relationship with her had resulted in a kid… "What did you tell him about me?"

"The truth. I've always wanted you to be part of his life. Eight years seemed like forever to you, but I knew you'd get out eventually." She brushed her bangs from her suddenly bright eyes. "I didn't want to make things worse for you in there, so I kept quiet about the pregnancy."

Ah, shit. I hated when chicks cried. Except for Lucy. Her tears affected me differently. I craved them. "It's water under the bridge. I'm here now, so let's deal with this. You told him his dad went to prison?" She shook her head. "I told him you had to go away for a few years, but you'd come back when you could. He's at that age now where vague answers aren't cutting it anymore. He wants to meet his father, Natsu."

This was unbelievable, and bad fucking timing. I'd just committed a felony—for real this time—and I was about to compound felony upon felony. I couldn't stop what I'd started, especially now. If I let Lucy go, she'd run straight to the cops. What a fucking mess. I pushed back from the table and resisted the urge to grab at my collar. "I need some time."

"I understand."

"No, I don't think you do. Lis…I've done things. Things I can't undo. I'm not the same guy I was eight years ago."

"I realize that."

"No, you don't." Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and pulled at the strands until my scalp burned. "You should've told me. You should've fucking told me." I tossed a few bills onto the table to cover the dinner I wouldn't eat, and then I rushed from the restaurant like the coward I was. But the question remained; if she had told me, would it have changed my mind about taking Lucy?


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Cheers to another update. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 7: Lucy POV

I wanted to die.

I didn't know how long he'd left me suspended, but it was messing with my head. I'd lost all sense of time and direction. My body was numb, almost weightless, except for the burn that circled my wrists. That pain didn't go away, no matter how much I tried to block it out. At some point, I started counting…at some point I'd also given up. By the time 7,200 seconds passed, I was about to go out of my mind. The time after that was endless. My voice had gone hoarse long ago from screaming his name.

He never came, and I began to panic. Maybe the past eight years had made him snap and tormenting me this way was his only source of relief. Images popped into my mind, scenarios of him beaten in prison, or worse. The helplessness he must have experienced, just as I was now. I tried to wrap my mind around eight years, but I could hardly wrap my mind around the few hours since he'd slammed the door shut, once again leaving me in darkness. A sick feeling formed in my gut.

God, he must really hate me. My actions, born of cowardice and shame, had labeled him a rapist. In that moment, as I stood on tiptoes in a most punishing way, I hated myself more than he did. I deserved this. The turn of a knob ricocheted, ringing in my ears, and a sliver of light beamed toward me an instant before it was extinguished. Impossibly, the blackness became even more suffocating. I heard him coming near, though he barely made a sound. His touch landed on my shoulder, and I wondered how he found me so easily. His fingers were warm and soft, starkly different from the chill I couldn't escape. My teeth chattered as his caress fluttered across my breasts, and my moan rents the air like a sword, tearing the quiet in two.

Clothing swished, and his arm brushed mine as he moved to stand behind me. His breath hit my ear before his words did. "All those years I was in prison, did you even think of me once?"

Twisting my aching wrists, I shuffled my feet, but my limbs refused to stop quaking. "Please let me down."

"Answer the question."

"I wrote you letters," I blurted, then drew in a quick breath. In the wee hours of the morning when sleep eluded me, I'd bared my soul to him on paper. All the guilt I'd carried, how I felt about him. I'd also laid out every last detail of the secrets I kept locked away.

"I never got any letters."

"I never sent them." Why had I opened my mouth about the letters? If he ever found them…oh God.

"Then why write them?"

"Because I…"

"Spit it out, Lucy."

"I missed you."

"You missed me?" He fisted my hair. "You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right? You sent me away."

"I know." I grimaced as his tug on my hair increased.

"What part of me did you miss? The guy you couldn't resist gawking at, or the guy who actually gave a shit about you?"

Past tense. He didn't care about me anymore. I couldn't blame him, but the knowledge hurt something fierce, threatened to chew a hole in my heart. "I just missed you, Natsu."

"Did you write about all the dirty things you wished I'd do to you?"

"No."

"Liar," he murmured into my ear. "Tell me about your fantasies." I tried shaking my head, mortified, but his fist in my hair immobilized me. "If you don't start talking, you're staying down here until morning."

His hand dropped, and I sensed him retreating. "Don't go!" I cried. "I'll tell you."

"I know you will. You haven't changed. I knew eight years ago I could probably do anything I wanted, but I knew better."

"And now?" I asked, hesitance creeping into my tone.

"Now I'm black on the inside. I just don't give a fuck anymore."

"I don't believe that. I still remember who you are, even if you don't."

"Would the man you remember have strung you up on your toes?" Definitely not. "Didn't think so," he said, as if he'd heard my thoughts. "So talk. Tell me all of your dirty secrets."

Oh, God. The way he breathed those words into my ear was enough to unravel me. "I've thought about you making love to me."

"Do I seem like a making-love kind of guy?"

"No." He seemed like a fuck-you-until-you-split-in-two kind of guy. The kind of guy who'd bring new meaning to the word passionate.

"C'mon, Lucy. Last chance to spill before I walk through that door alone."

"I've thought about you going down on me." He rimmed my earlobe with his tongue, invoking a jittery sigh.

"Did you get yourself off thinking about my tongue on you?" He closed a hand around my throat, arched my neck, and darted his tongue inside my ear in an erotic demonstration of what he could do with his hot mouth on other areas of my body.

"You're an ass," I said, though the breathless quality of my voice took the sting out of the words.

"I want to fuck yours." I couldn't help but tremble. The idea wasn't pleasant, but at the same time, the thought of Natsu sliding inside my tight, forbidden hole…there was something tantalizing about it. His harsh laughter brought me back to the here and now. "Fuck, you're getting hot thinking about it, aren't you?"

"No." I shook my head, as if the denial alone wasn't good enough, as if he could see me anyway in the darkness.

"I'm calling bullshit. You want me to fuck your ass."

"I've never…done it before." Anal sex was the one area where I was still a virgin, untainted by Sting's brutal obsession. The thought of Natsu penetrating the last place left untouched turned me on in ways I couldn't explain, yet it also terrified me.

"I can be your first." He wedged a finger between my lips. "I bet you've dreamed of my dick in your mouth too. Do you like sucking cock?" I closed my lips and sucked, unable to stop myself. His finger tasted of salt and something that was undeniably him. The way he stroked my tongue made me ache to have something much bigger in my mouth. I'd never wanted it before, had often endured Sting's forceful intrusion while giving it my all just so he'd finish that much faster. But Natsu…putting my mouth on him would be different. He withdrew his finger and traced a wet path down my throat. "I'm going to release you, and you're going to obey every fucking demand, do you understand me?"

"Yes," I said, biting back a moan.

He set me free from the shackles, and my arms fell to my sides, as if weighed down by cement blocks. Not allowing me a chance to stretch my protesting limbs, he pulled me through the blackness, as if a sudden charge of urgency drove him, and my heart thrummed an erratic beat as he pushed me up the stairs, fingers pressing into hips with a touch that was so not gentle. His hands on me, gouging with pain and power, flooded my pussy with heat and dampness. My breaths came rapidly, a wheezing sound more in tune with fear than with want, but wanted him, I did.

We entered the living room, and his hands rose to my waist as his mouth closed over my neck, sucking and nipping as he walked me forward, one step at a time. I dropped my head against his shoulder and moaned, eyelids drooping. Parting my lips, I thought I spoke his name, but if I did, it was lost to our heavy breathing.

He halted at the edge of the room and pulled down a stepladder. "Climb up," he said with a groan. His hard-on jabbed my spine, and his large hands wrapped around my sides as he guided me up the steep passage. He switched on a light, and I saw the top consisted of a loft bedroom with a slanted ceiling. Double skylights undoubtedly gave the illusion of space during the day, though the king size bed took up most of the room. It was cozy and inviting, and I wanted to sink into the mattress and find out if it was as soft as it looked, preferably while his naked body blanketed mine.

He whirled me around, and I met his gaze, plummeting into impossibly green depths shadowed by lashes longer and thicker than mine. Those eyes radiated manic obsession, devouring me with a feverous edge. He pounced without warning, muscles bunching as he hoisted me up by the neck. I kicked my feet helplessly as he strode across the room and slammed me onto the bed. This was about more than sex. He wanted to hurt me—I felt it in my bones where his hands had left their imprints.

Gasping, I propped up on elbows and watched him warily, my shaking knees falling to the sides. He stalked me slowly, shedding his clothes with each step closer, and his fierce expression said I belonged to him. I shouldn't feel excitement, shouldn't feel warmth pooling between my legs, but that was me—the fucked up girl who got off when she shouldn't.

"Turn over," he growled. "On your hands and knees."

I rolled onto my stomach, pushed onto all fours, and the mattress lowered when he climbed behind me. He wrapped his large hands around my hips and dragged me backward until my bottom pressed into his lap, my thighs spread as far as they would go. A rough hand shoved my cheek to the mattress, and my strangled moan tore through the air as his erection teased the opening of my sex.

"Are you on birth control?"

The question evoked a deep ache in my heart. I'd been on some form of contraception since I was fifteen. "I just had an injection a couple of weeks ago."

"Are you clean?"

"Are you?" I countered.

"I've been in prison for eight years. What do you think?" I didn't answer, as I didn't like to think of Natsu in prison. "I asked you a question," he bit out in that unnerving tone I was beginning to recognize. "Are you clean?"

I'd only been with one man, and considering Sting's obsession with me, I doubted I had to worry about STDs. I wished Sting had turned his focus to someone else, as horrible and selfish as that sounded. "I'm clean." He curled his fingers into my hips and nudged me.

"Do you want this?" God yes. I let out a pleading moan. I shouldn't want him this way. It was twisted and wrong, but just the thought that he'd do it anyway if I fought him made me even hotter. I hated my body; it had it all backward. Sex shouldn't be about power and control. His hands closed around my wrists and yanked them to the mattress, next to my spread thighs, and I'd never felt so helpless and exposed—not in a way that was so exhilarating. "I won't be gentle."

My whole body shuddered. "I don't expect you to be."

"Good, 'cause I'm not stopping." Something ominous laced his words.

"You're going to hurt me, aren't you?" Another shiver went through me, and I couldn't decide if I was excited or horrified. Sting had hurt me so many times that it had become second nature, but Natsu wasn't my psychotic step-brother. Natsu was the guy I'd obsessed over for years, and now he had me pinned down and spread, easy prey, and I worried he was about to figure out just how fucked up I was.

"No orgasms allowed."

I groaned. "You're crazy if you think I can hold back." Every atom in my body zinged with the need for him to fill me.

His fingers flexed around my wrists. "I think you're gonna find a way, unless you really want to test me. I'm not fucking you for your pleasure, sweetheart. I'm fucking you because you're my piece of ass."

That was all I'd ever be to him. A piece of ass, a thing he held in contempt for unforgivable sins. Lips trembling, eyes stinging with unshed tears, I tried to swallow the hurt, but this wasn't how I'd imagined our first time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. My mom tookmy laptop and I had to convince her to let me use it to update this story so unfortunately its not a long chapter. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Natsu POV

I wasn't a monster. If I told myself that enough times, maybe I'd believe it.

She swiveled her head and looked at me, blonde curls tumbling over her shoulder, and her chocolate eyes glimmered with unspoken hurt. She still didn't understand that I hungered for her pain, her tears. I smacked her hard on the ass. "Keep your head down." I slammed into her, and her spine arched under my onslaught of savage greed. My entire body ignited with the sensation of being joined. No latex barrier, just pure skin-to-skin contact. Shit, she was ready for me. Tight, wet, hot. If I weren't so on edge, I'd bury myself in her for hours. Finally, after so many fucking years of wanting this girl, I was inside her.

The sense of power intoxicated me, as did the discovery that this was more than just sex. I could deny it all I wanted, but our chemistry didn't lie. There was something irresistible about her. It was true when she was fifteen, when my values kept her safe from me. Now she was even more irresistible because she'd come of age, morphed into a woman I wanted to consume, and I was more than justified in taking her. Swiveling my hips, I shoved deeper and thrilled at the way her body sheathed my cock like a glove. We slid together in sweat and need, and I pressed my thumbs into her wrists where her pulse galloped in tune to my thrusts.

The sounds she made, so guttural they vibrated straight to my dick—fuck they sent me flying. I plunged harder, faster, and squeezed her wrists until my fingers whitened at the knuckles. "You're hurting me," she said, her voice wafting in the air like a tattered feather.

I yanked her upright and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, one hand clamping her arm to trap her against me. The other gripped her throat, fingers on either side of her neck, forcing her head back. Her spine arched as I pumped. "You feel that? That's my cock inside you." I drove into her violently, increasing the pace, the pain. I wanted to hurt her, wanted her tears. Each thrust was an angry, unforgiving act of punishment—a way to hide what tortured me deep down; things I'd grappled with for eight years. I craved this girl yet hated her guts, all at the same time.

"Please…" she whimpered.

"Please what? You wanted me to fuck you, and now…I…am." I bit back a grunt and flexed my fingers around her throat.

"Natsu…oh God, Natsu! I'm gonna come," she bit the words out through gritted teeth, and those blessed tears I craved slipped from her eyes.

I licked each salty drop from her cheek and let her shame linger on my tongue. "You're not coming," I said, clutching her throat and angling her neck to the side. I sank my teeth into tender, creamy skin and clamped down harder when a screeching cry tore from her lips. My dick celebrated that wail. "That's right, sweetheart. Cry for me. Fight me."

"Can't…stop…it." Her voice lilted into a continuous moan that wrecked me as she clenched. She wasn't fighting, wasn't struggling or begging. She was fucking getting off. Oh fuck no. She would struggle.

I inhaled deeply, seeking absolute control because anything less was dangerous. It'd been too long since I'd experienced the addictive rush of adrenaline flooding my system, a high I only achieved by stealing someone's breath and sanity, when I was God to them in those seconds when they straddled the line of life and death at my hands. I couldn't screw this up because no matter what I told her, she meant too much. I wanted her struggle and her terror, but I didn't want to kill her.

I tightened my fingers around her throat, adding just enough pressure to restrict the blood flow to her brain. She writhed like a rabid animal, her fingernails digging into any part of me she could reach. Blood rushed my cock, and I'd never felt so hard, so insane and frantic as I rammed her from behind. Her body bowed backward, and I counted the seconds as I came. She relaxed in my arms as the last bit of pleasure shot from my dick. I withdrew, heart pumping too fast, and laid her limp body onto the mattress.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Guess who got her laptop back. That's right I did. In order of celebration here is the next chapter. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Saturdays, but I might start to update on Wednesdays as well. I haven't decided yet.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 9: Lucy POV

Strong, muscular arms surrounded me as I gasped, and I clawed at my throat, fighting against the horrifying experience of not being able to breathe. Despite the disorientation and confusion, I sank deeper into his warmth, loving how his body folded around mine. I coughed and gasped some more, and little by little, clarity returned. Cold, harsh reality doused the warm and fuzzies.

Natsu had tried to choke me. I struggled from his hold and made it to the edge of the bed before he trapped me in his arms again. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You fucking choked me!"

"You fucking came."

"Are you trying to kill me? Do you hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you that much, Lucy." He moved one arm from my waist and wound a fist in my hair. "You need to remember I'm the one in control here. Just because you have a hot vagina doesn't mean you can disobey me. When I say no orgasms, I mean no orgasms."

Intense hurt welled, unstoppable, and I let out a sob. More followed until I was bawling like a baby. He'd taken something from me—something I'd held onto for years. He'd taken my first time with him, had sullied the memory with his cruelty. That was something I'd never get back, and it hurt so incredibly bad because he didn't seem fazed. I was just another piece of ass. Even worse, I was someone who deserved his contempt. I did deserve his hatred, but I didn't deserve to die. "Stop crying, or I'll put you back in the cellar."

"Why do you have to be such an asshole?"

"Why did you have to send me to prison?" he shot back, adding another painful yank on my hair.

"I didn't want to. God, Natsu…I didn't want to."

"I'm done tiptoeing around this. Either tell me why you did it, or I'll choke you again." Another sob escaped, and I tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. He rolled me onto my back, pinned both wrists to the mattress with one hand, and circled my throat with the other. My pulse pounded out of control. But he didn't apply pressure. Instead, he stared into my eyes, as if searching for an answer.

"Please…don't. Please…" More tears seeped from my eyes and dripped down the sides of my face. He leaned down and licked them up.

"Either tell me the truth, or you go nighty-night again."

"Please!" I begged. "I didn't want to do it. Natsu…you have no idea."

"Oh, I think I do. That's the interesting thing about being locked up, Lucy. I had way too much time to think. You wanted me, only I wasn't giving in, was I?" He lowered his face until we were nose to nose. "You couldn't handle the rejection." I didn't know if I was more appalled or indignant over his assumptions. "Admit it! You were nothing but a pampered, spoiled little brat, and you didn't think twice about throwing me away like trash when you didn't get what you wanted."

"I loved you!" I screamed into his face. "I loved you so fucking much." I turned my head and wished the mattress would split open and swallow me. Oh, God. I was ten shades of mortified. His silence weighed more heavily than his body did.

He flexed his fingers around my locked wrists. "You have a funny way of showing it," he finally said.

I had no answer to that. His hand twitched around my throat, still threatening punishment. "Please, Natsu," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Don't do this."

"Don't do this? You have no idea what you did," he said. "I want to squeeze every last breath from you. I want to fucking break you until your nothing but pieces in my arms."

"Please," I gasped.

"They raped me in there, Lucy."

I couldn't breathe, and not because his hands threatened to shut off my air, but for the first time, I really allowed myself to see what I'd done to him. "Kill me," I said, hot, salty drops of regret trickling into my mouth. "I deserve it." He narrowed his eyes—eyes suddenly bright with pain—and pressed harder on my throat. My mouth opened, and I gasped as spots floated in the air. The room narrowed, walls closing in a little more with each thump of my heart. I thought it would pound out of my chest. "Do it," I squeaked.

"Fuck me," he choked out. The vulnerability in his tone tore me in two. He let go of my throat, and I sucked in the air until I thought my lungs would burst.

"I wish I could take it back," I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I'd caused him so much pain, had ruined his life. I'd done this to the only guy I'd ever loved. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I said it over and over, wishing he'd believe me, wishing I could turn back time. "If you need to talk about it—"

"Shut up." He returned me to my side and trapped me against his body. "It's late. Get some damn sleep." Instead of returning me to the cellar, he clung to me, one hand fisting my hair while the other claimed my breast. His legs tangled with mine.

I knew this conversation was far from over. He wouldn't stop until he got the truth, and I wondered how long I could hold out. How many choke holds could I handle? How many hours suspended by my wrists, alone in the cold, dank cellar? How many times could I withstand him torturing me with sex? I brought my fists up, pressed them to tremble lips, and dug sharp fingernails into my palms. When it came to Natsu, I never knew what was coming next, and I didn't know what he was capable of, especially in light of his admission. I shuddered to think of what he'd been through. I was a pampered, spoiled brat. Selfish to the core.

I should have stopped it. I should have spoken up and told the police the truth, but as the first hours passed, most of them spent in a state of shock, I lost what small bit of courage I might have possessed. Hours turned into days…days into months…months into years. All the while, Natsu had been in hell. For all the tough guy front he put up, I believed he did care about me, somewhere inside him where the guy I remembered still existed. He might have loved me, if things had turned out differently. If I hadn't wrecked him. Life was what it was. I couldn't change the past. I could only deal with the present as it hurtled toward me.

Sometime later, his breathing evened into gentle snores, and I carefully tugged my hair from his fist and lifted his warm palm from my breast. Little by little, I extricated myself from his hold and crawled from the bed. When a floorboard creaked under my foot, I froze, fear rising in my throat in the form of a lump. He didn't move. I swallowed hard and inched toward the panel that would drop the ladder onto the first floor. God, I was quaking like a leaf. The situation reminded me of one of those scary movies I used to make Hibiki watch with me—the ones where I'd yell at the heroine, lamenting her stupidity because there was no way she was getting out of there alive. I had to. For both our sakes.

I didn't hold anything against him. The horrors he'd experienced in prison were my fault. I wouldn't take that from him, wouldn't attempt to deflect blame. We all made choices, some good, some bad. When it came to bad decisions, Natsu and I were batting one for one. So I had to get out of there before the situation escalated and he did something we'd both regret. I kept his sleeping form in my periphery and released the ladder. It dropped to the floor with a ridiculous amount of racket, and my whole body stiffened. He rolled over, underneath the layers of blankets, and for a moment I wanted to crawl back into bed with him.

What a ridiculous notion. As soon as his soft snores resumed, a burst of adrenaline shot through me. I climbed down the steps and landed with a soft thud on the hardwood floor. I turned in the darkened room, thankful for the heavy rain hitting the roof in a cacophony of taps and dings. Under the cover of noise and shadow, I rushed through the house in search of my clothes. Heck, I'd settle for a jacket at this point. If need be, I'd walk out of that house buck-naked. I headed toward the kitchen, hoping to find a coat in the closet by the door.

Turning the corner, I shook with a mixture of anticipation and dread. It was deja vu, and I was back in my house on the night of my engagement, preparing to take hold of freedom with both hands, to hell with the consequences. I smashed into a body, and at first, I thought it was Natsu until the deep voice registered—a voice I didn't recognize. "What are you doing wandering around by yourself?"

"Natsu!" I screamed, turning and running toward the loft, as if my life depended on it. I screamed for him again as my feet threatened to slide across the hardwood. I was in such a frantic hurry to get up the ladder that my foot slipped on the first rung, and my chin hit the wood hard. I fell on my ass, my jaw throbbing, and palmed my breasts as a figure loomed over me.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Here is the next chapter. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. My updates have changed to Wednesday and Saturday; twice a week now. I am extremely grateful for all the people who have taken intrest in my story so now you can loook forward to two updates in a week instead of 1.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 10: Natsu POV

Her scream jerked me from sleep, and I sprang to my feet. Adrenaline flooded my system, and I couldn't recall how I got to the opening of the ladder, but I was peering into the darkness when a light switched on. Lucy cowered at the bottom, her petite hands covering her breast. Gray stood next to her. He looked up and took in my questioning glance with a shrug. "She freaked the fuck out, man."

"Just a sec. I'll be right down." I threw on a black shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and pulled on my jeans. The belt hung over my dick, unbuckled as I descended the steps.

Lucy sent me a nervous glance, eyes wide and chest heaving behind those hands that did little to conceal her tits. Part of me wanted to drag her back to bed and fuck her again. The other part wanted to see how this played out. I already tasted her humiliation, craved it even. "Get up," I said, my face hardening into a stern expression. I turned toward Gray. "Want a look?"

He arched a brow. "She's a naked woman. What do you think?"

Lucy scooted away, bare ass sliding across the hardwood. I grabbed a fist full of her hair and brought her to her feet. "Leave me alone!" She attempted to pull away, though she still didn't move her hands, and I almost laughed at the way she was standing, like a comical version of a woman needing to pee but trying to hold it.

"Arms at your sides," I ordered. She needed to know I was willing to go to any length to control her, and that included sharing her. Of course, I'd cut off my arm before I'd share her, but she didn't know that. The threat of handing her off to Gray should go a long way toward breaking her stubborn will. I yanked on her hair. "Hands at your sides!" Her sob should have cut me to pieces. That would be the normal reaction, but her cries made me want to do dirty, nasty things that would turn those cries into screams. I bunched my hands as she dropped hers. Her nipples puckered, no doubt from the chill in the cabin. "Touch her tits," I said to Gray.

He narrowed his eyes. "You sure?"

No, not at all. "Yeah, I'm sure." Lucy needed to know she had no sway with me. What better way to show her how little she meant than to let another man fondle her? He reached a hand out, paying no heed to her struggle, and brushed a fingertip across her nipple. Watching him touch her was harder than expected. She sucked in a breath and her body went lax against me, as if she knew she was outnumbered and couldn't stop this.

She was right. She had no control on this island, and it was time she figured it out. I gritted my teeth as Gray stepped closer and settled both palms over her tits. "You're a lucky man, you son of a bitch." I might have taken offense, but the name fit my mother perfectly. "They're a little on the small side, but she's a looker," he said, continuing to mold her tits to his hands.

Agitation twisted her face, and she spit at him. "Get your hands off of me!"

He stepped back, out of the line of spit, and I jerked her back by the hair. "You need to learn a little respect, especially toward my roommate. Gray lives here, so you'd better get used to being naked around him." I grabbed her face, forcing her watery eyes on mine. "If I tell you to let him touch you, you fucking let him touch you. If I tell you to suck his dick, you wrap that sweet mouth around him. You're going to do as you're told, got it?"

"No, I don't 'got it,'" she said with a sneer. "I'm not a plaything you can pass around to your buddies. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I raised a brow. "What the hell is wrong with me?" I shoved her to her knees and held her head between hands that shook with rage. "What's wrong with me is your attitude." Fuck, she was getting under my skin. "Gray, unzip." I took in his stunned expression. Obviously, he hadn't expected this development, and neither had I, but it was too late to back down, even if the thought of her mouth touching his cock before it touched mine set my blood boiling.

He only displayed a moment of hesitancy before unbuttoning his jeans. Lucy was a tempting package, and I doubted there was a straight man alive that would pass up the chance to have that mouth fastened around his dick. Even Gray, who had issues when it came to being touched, wouldn't say no. He lowered his zipper and whipped out his junk. She tensed, inching her head sideways as he came near her. I tightened my hold, indecision warring within me. I wanted her mouth around my cock, no one else's, but I needed to see this through. Gray took another step and stopped just short of brushing his tip against her lips.

"Open your fucking mouth," I told her. She jerked her head back and forth, so I pressed my fingers into her jaw until she had no choice but to open. I glanced at Gray. "Give her a taste." Visibly swallowing, he slowly inched his tip past her lips. "You like him on your tongue? How about if he really goes for it? Have you ever had a man deep-throat you?"

Her protest came out as a mangled reply around his dick, and her tears slid onto my hands while I forced her head still. Gray's eyelids fell, and I caught the slight shudder in his body. The tightness of his face wasn't one of pleasure, and I realized this was going too far for him. Fuck, who was I kidding? This was going too far for me. "You either suck him off, or you go back into the cellar. Your choice."

She jerked her head back. "Cellar," she said, no hesitation whatsoever, and I smiled. The only dick she wanted was mine. I pulled her to her feet, and Gray stumbled back and zipped his pants.

I pushed her to the door of the cellar, and he followed, though he didn't trail us down the stairs. The door shut with a loud bang. She flung my hands off her and backed up, toward the racks of wine bottles. The tears that trickled down her face, dripping onto her tits, should have softened me, but they didn't. I wanted to lick each one from her skin, savoring the salt on my tongue. Savoring her pain. The law saw me as nothing more than a rapist. A degenerate. I wouldn't want to disappoint them now. "Get in the cage."

"No!" She snatched a wine bottle, stared at it for a couple of seconds in her shaking grasp, and busted it on the wall. Deep red wine splashed at her feet. Lifting an unsteady arm, she gripped the jagged neck with whitened knuckles and widened her stance, as if ready to fight me. Shit, she probably was. Maybe I'd finally found the secret button of hers—the one that sent her into a corner cowering with the realization that a cruel son of a bitch held her life in his hands. No more notions of romance and love-making. But she wasn't exactly cowering now. She was ready to take me on, like a cornered tiger. Fuck, it was a turn-on, especially since my claws were bigger than hers. "Put it down," I said, the words tearing from my lips in a snarl.

"You're crazy, Natsu! How could you offer me up to him?" she screamed the words, her face distorted into something I'd never seen on her delicate features. "How could you choke me?" Her entire body trembled, and I recognized the adrenaline rushing through her, the need to take control, but I didn't believe she had it in her. Until she jumped at me with the makeshift weapon and swiped the air. Shit. She wasn't kidding.

I put my hands up. "Calm down. At least I wouldn't try to slice you up, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that!" Her face twisted in despair. "Please, let me go. Please…Natsu. I don't want to hurt you."

"Sweetheart," I said, just to goad her, "you're not even close to hurting me." She only hesitated an instant before her arm shot out again and jagged glass came way too close for comfort.

Ducking, I caught her wrist and squeezed until the bottle dropped and splintered at our feet. "Come at me like that again and you'll wish the devil was down here with you." I wrenched her hands behind her back, trapped her against me, and wrapped an arm around her throat. Her breaths puffed out, each slow exhale indicating she was giving in. At least, that's what I thought. I loosened my arm, a mistake, because she sank her teeth into my inked bicep, stomped on my foot, and tore up the stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Here is another update. Someone asked me to label the POV so they won't get confused so I'll go back and label all the chapters. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Wednesdays and Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 11: Lucy POV

 _Why isn't he grabbing me?_ That was my only thought as I ran up the stairs. Each step seemed agonizingly slow, as if I were in a dream, someone on my heels chasing me, and I couldn't get my legs to move fast enough. I pulled the door open and ran smack into a broad chest. Gray grabbed my shoulders, and his fingers gouged my bones. "Let me go!" I lifted a knee and aimed for his balls, and when he doubled over with a groan, I took off running. Time seemed to slow, and every footstep felt as if I were forging through mud. I reached the door, flung it open, and lurched into the cold. I didn't dare look back. They could have been a foot behind me and I wouldn't have known, and I was too scared to find out.

Breaths coming in shallow gasps, I raced over rough ground. Rocks bit into my feet and wind whipped hair into my eyes as rain drenched my body. At this point, I didn't care that I was running naked in the middle of nowhere, exposed to the weather. A streak of lightening lit up the sky, and I saw a break in the trees.

"Lucy!" My heart pounded in my chest, as loud as the thunder overhead as I recognized the fury in Natsu's voice. He sounded much too close. I buckled down and made for the trees, hoping to find a road on the other side, the source of the highway noise I'd noticed before from inside the kitchen. "Stop! Lucy!"

I broke through the line of Douglas firs in a full out sprint, but it wasn't a road beyond the trees. Lightening lit up the sky again, and for that mere second, I saw the water. Rain pounded the surface, causing a choppy and violent scene. I skidded, my bare feet scraping over pebbles and dirt, and tried to halt forward motion.

I was too late.

With a terrified shriek, I tipped over the edge, my body twisting around as I fell in with a splash. More lightening streaked the heavens, and I saw Natsu's horrified expression. I screamed for him, arms reaching and thrashing as I sank into the freezing depths. Water closed over my face, and the murky void pulled me under. Pulled me away from him. Away from my only hope of being saved. I sure as hell couldn't save myself. I couldn't even swim. I fought, kicked, prayed to reach the surface, and blindly grasped for something to cling to. My lungs burned with the need to breathe. Oh God, it was unbearable. Body going limp, I finally gave up the battle, accepting imminent death. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe it was better this way. At least I'd get the chance to see Mom again, get a chance to explain, to beg her forgiveness.

I thought of Natsu as I opened my mouth and allowed the water to fill my lungs. A sense of peace cocooned me, and I said goodbye to him, told him I loved him. As everything faded to black, I felt hands grabbing me. My body moved swiftly upward, then…nothing.

"Fucking breathe, Lucy!" Someone pounded on my chest.

"Shit, man. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let her get away."

"Breathe!" The voices were strained, as if coming from constricted throats. Cold, wet drops fell on my face, and at first I thought they were tears, but tears were hot and salty, and these drops were like icy pinpricks on my cheeks. Something loud rumbled overhead, blocking out the voices, and the ground vibrated. I felt soft, surprisingly warm lips on mine, opening my mouth and breathing life into me. I came to with a violent cough that seized my body.

"That's it, cough it up." Cold fingers turned my head to the side, and a flood of water erupted from my mouth. I opened my eyes and found Natsu perched over me, his arms supporting his weight and his face inches from mine. "You scared the fucking shit out of me!" he screamed. Water dripped from his hair, down his nose and off his chin. And his eyes…they narrowed to furious slits.

He jumped to his feet and reached out a hand. "Get up," he said between tight lips. I let him pull me up, and my body quaked uncontrollably. I was still trying to calm down from almost drowning, but as soon as another streak of lightening shot across the sky, the situation hit me head-on. Too much water. All around me.

My heart pounded in my ears, galloping at an unbearable speed as panic took over. A keening cry tore from my lips, and I doubled over, hugging my midsection as the world around me tilted. "Why?" That single word squeezed from my throat. "Why would you bring me here?"

"Why do you think?" Shaking his head, Natsu glanced at Gray, who stood off to the side observing the drama unfolding between Natsu and me. "I knew you couldn't escape, but I never thought you'd run and almost get yourself killed!"

I decided not to point out the fact that any sane person would try to run. "Where are we? What is this place?"

"Tenroujima." He swept the area with a hand. "But since you're so set on leaving, there's a boat at the dock. Feel free."

"You know I can't!"

"Don't I know it," he said with a sinister laugh. "Why do you think I brought you here?" He pushed me back enough so his eyes bored into mine. "You'll fucking do as I say because there's nowhere for you to go. We both know you won't come anywhere near this water again."

"I hate you!" I screamed, pounding on his chest.

He easily deflected the blows. "Not nearly as much as I hate you. Now move your ass." He pulled me away from the river, toward the cabin, I assumed. I stumbled along numbly, eyes on the ground, one foot in front of the other, and never quite registered anything around me. I could only think of one thing.

Water. Too much water.

He hadn't needed to lock me up. My fear held me prisoner more effectively than any conventional method he could have used. The chains, the shackles, the cage—they'd all been props to mess with my head. As I followed him back toward the cabin, something inside me finally broke. My fear of water stemmed from a near-drowning experience when I was four, and I'd never learned to swim. Natsu had known. He'd been the one to fish me out of my family's pool when I was fourteen, after Sting "accidentally" knocked me in. My brother had been particularly mean that day, probably because Natsu had stopped by, and I hadn't been able to keep my eyes off him. How ironic that my phobia was his most powerful weapon.

The three of us entered the cabin through the door off the kitchen, and Natsu switched on a light. Unable to stop shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from clanking together. Natsu shrugged out of his soaked black shirt, flung it over a chair, and moved it away from the table. "Gray, take a seat over there, would ya?" Gray gave him a funny look but followed the request. "No, I need you to turn the chair around, so the back faces the table."

"Sure thing." Gray turned the chair and plopped onto it before removing his own wet T-shirt.

My gaze traveled between them, back and forth, and I felt as if I were missing something. I'd just tried to escape. I'd almost drowned, and they were acting nonchalant. Too nonchalant. What the hell was going on here? Natsu's gaze fell on me, and for a few heavy moments, I didn't breathe. That look, his lips thin, eyes narrowed, made my pulse rocket. A clap of thunder sounded, and I jumped. Natsu pulled the belt from his pants.

I backed up. "What are you doing?" He didn't give me a chance to retreat. With a yank on my arm, he brought me closer and wound the belt around my wrists. "Natsu…please—" He pulled the leather tight, and I gasped as he bent me over the table with a hard shove. Drops of water landed on the wood, and my breasts flattened against the surface. He pushed my arms across the table and tossed the other end of the belt at Gray.

"Knot it around the chair."

"Natsu?" My voice came out unusually high-pitched, and I swiveled my head in time to see him take down the paddle he'd pointed out earlier that morning. "You wouldn't."

Gray snickered as he attached the belt around a slot in the chair. I pulled on it, but it wouldn't give. "I definitely would." Natsu brought my attention back to him. His voice chilled me, sending dread and remorse through my blood. Dread for what was coming, and remorse for my actions. I should have been smarter about trying to escape. I should have taken a few days to gain his trust first. This attempt had turned into a disaster. "My old man only used this on my brother and me a handful of times. It hurt like hell, and you can bet your ass we learned quick. You're about to learn quick too."

I stiffened as he halted behind me. Waiting for that first strike was the worst part, and when he finally did crack that paddle across my ass, I lost my breath for what seemed like forever, though it must have only been a mere instant before he did it again. I jumped from foot to foot and bit into my lip to keep from yowling. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of voicing my pain. And I never, ever wanted him to know how this was turning me on. My face burned from humiliation—not from what he was doing, but rather from my own sick reaction to it.

"C'mon, sweetheart, scream for me. Beg me to stop."

"No," I ground out through gritted teeth.

He struck again, and this time I let out an involuntary yelp. "That's better." Crack!

"Stop!" I clenched my thighs, and my hands fisted within the restraint of the belt.

Gray caught my gaze, and I noticed his fingers curling around the chair back, knuckles turning ash-white. He licked his lips, eyes glazed over with arousal. Natsu continued to paddle my ass, and the three of us fell into an odd sort of silence. There was no talking, and I held back any sounds of pain, or God forbid, pleasure. Only the smack of thick wood to skin echoed through the room.

I drifted into a space outside myself as Natsu increased the pressure of the strikes. After about thirty, he set the paddle down on the table, his breathing coming fast and hard. I sensed him moving closer, heard a zipper lower, and I tightened my already clenched muscles.

"Spread your legs."

Hands forming fists, I let my head drop to the table as I parted my thighs. Mortification burned my cheeks again, hotter than before because he was about to fuck me in front of his friend. Even worse, they were about to learn the truth about me. His hands fell to my hips, and he entered me with a single, forceful plunge. "Fuck, you're wet." He laughed, thrusting so hard, he pushed me higher onto the table until my feet left the floor. "I would've never guessed. You get off on this shit, don't you?"

A tear leaked out, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry," I said with a moan.

"Are you apologizing because you get off on pain and humiliation, or are you apologizing for something else?"

"I'm just…sorry." Sorry for being the way I was because my fucked up nature was at the root of why he'd gone to prison. I was sorry for so much. He slowed the pace, his cock sliding in and out with gentle rhythm.

I scratched my nails on the surface of the table and moaned. Gray let out a moan too. I lifted my head as he reached for his zipper. His head fell back, hooded eyes watching me as his hand pumped in his lap. Natsu's shallow thrusts tormented me, rubbing in just the right spot. My need dripped down my thighs, seeping from my body in a gentle pull that made me grind my teeth. I abused the air with deep, throaty cries. "I need to come," I begged.

"No, you're not getting off. If you do, I'll choke you again."

I gasped. "I can't hold back!"

"I said no." He smacked my ass and rammed me. Hard. Painfully hard. I concentrated, concentrated on anything but him moving inside me. The thunder reverberating overhead, the hard edge of the table biting into my belly, the eerie howl of a train. Even Gray's grunts as he neared orgasm. Anything but Natsu.

It wasn't enough. I was going to come again, and he was going to choke me, a thought that terrified me. I could handle a lot of things, but having my air cut off wasn't one of them. Unbidden, the image of Sting entered my mind, and I held onto it, remembered all the times he'd dragged my panties down and pinned me to the bed. My bed. The one place I was supposed to feel safest. I recalled how he'd muffled my sobs in the pillow, how he'd beaten me in places where the bruises wouldn't show. Still, my body had turned on me.

This was his fault. He'd made me the way I was, and I hated him for it. Natsu pushed into me one last time and stilled, fisting my hair as he came. Gray came too, as if they'd timed it. His breathing gradually slowed as he traced a lazy path down my back. Gooseflesh erupted from his touch—a sensation that contrasted with the searing ache in my core. He released my hands, picked me up, and threw my soaked body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Water dripped from my hair and left a trail on the floor as he carried me toward the cellar. He stopped on the way and grabbed a towel from the bathroom.

I was shivering violently when he approached the cage. "Don't leave me in there. Please." I clutched his wet jeans, but he dislodged me way too easily and set me on my feet.

"Two nights, Lucy. That's what your little escape attempt earned you." He kept me at his side, one hand fisting my hair as he unlocked the cage. He shoved me inside, and the towel landed on the concrete at my feet. I turned around and helplessly watched while he shut and secured the door. "Natsu…please…" I blinked several times, but his unwavering expression swam in my vision.

"Do I need to restrain your hands?"

"Why would you need to do that?" I gestured to my prison. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

He laughed. "No masturbating." The idea of touching myself was the last thing on my mind. In fact, I was pretty certain if I did, it would only make me want the real thing more. I still ached for him, so much, despite the wall of bars standing between us while he held the key to my freedom.

"I'll be back in the morning to feed you." Heturned, as if I meant nothing, and once again the darkness suffocated me.

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 **I just wanted to be clear about Lucy "enjoying" the humilation to get off. A lot of men and women who are in an absuive sexual relationship find a way to cope with it by telling themselves it feels good so they don't loose their sanity. This is just a way to deal with a traumatic experience. I'm not saying this is right or encouraging anything I just wanted to give a better understanding of Lucy's mental state as of right now. I hope this makes sense.**


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note

I am so sorry for not updating today, but I am incredibly sick and was not able to update the chapter, only this note. In apology for not updating today look forward to 3 new chapters on Saturday. I hope this makes up for this. I am incredibly grateful for all the support my story is receiving and hope everyone had a Merry Christmas. Thank You and sorry for the inconvenience.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of the support. I am still pretty sick, but am doing much better. I got 2 out of the 3 chapters completed that I promised. So please be ok with that. The 3rd chapter is still in the process of being written. PLEASE review to let me know your thoughts and what I need to work on. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Wednesdays and Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 12: Natsu POV

Two things haunted me: I had a son I'd yet to meet, and I had a naked captive in the cellar—a tempting, kinky one I ached to fuck again. I adjusted my jeans and tried to force my mind onto other things, but the fact that two days had gone by, in which I hadn't dealt with either issue, wouldn't leave me alone.

Neither would Lisanna. She'd tried calling several times—I had eight unheard messages on my cell but was too chicken-shit to listen to them, let alone return her calls. I had no clue what to say to her anyway, mainly because she had no clue I'd kidnapped a woman and was now holding said woman in my cellar. Those weren't exactly the actions of father material. The kid was probably better off never knowing me.

The cabin was too fucking quiet, too still. Lucy had remained unnervingly silent, even when I'd gone down there to feed her, and Gray had gone into work. Enough was enough. She was mine—mine to play with, mine to torment. Fucking mine. If I wanted to fuck her again, I would. No more thoughts of how terrified she'd looked when she'd fallen into the river, or how my heart stopped as I tried to get hers working again.

My footsteps fell heavily on the stairs, and when I reached the bottom, I found her huddled in her favorite corner, her cheek to the concrete and body curled into a ball underneath the towel I'd left with her. It was cruel and inhumane, but damn, it was a sight I'd never forget. Besides, better to be hard and mean now, get her to fall into line, than return her to the cellar numerous times because I'd been too soft on her. I definitely didn't want a repeat of the river.

Something enfolded my heart and squeezed. Fuck, she'd almost died, and whether I liked it or not, part of me would have died with her. My actions had nearly gotten her killed, and regardless of what she'd done, I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to her. I wanted to punish her, but I also couldn't deny that I straight up wanted her. Period. She'd become my world, my obsession, and I had no plans to let her off this island. "If I let you out, will you behave?"

"Yes," she said, the word falling from her lips in lifeless fashion.

Maybe I'd finally broken her. "Will you try to run again?"

"You know I won't. Where would I go?"

"Things are going to change around here. No more tantrums, no more back-talking or throwing dishes." I paused long enough to unlock the cage and enter. "No more escape attempts. You'll do as you're told, when you're told, without argument, or next time you'll spend a lot more time down here. Do you understand me?"

"Y…yes," she said through chattering teeth. "I'm so cold."

Damn it. I was walking a fine line between breaking her and risking her becoming ill. "Okay." Crouching, I brushed tangled hair from her eyes. A strand caught between her lips, and I ran a finger along the seam of her mouth to remove it. Her lips were chapped, her face pale, but what bothered me most was the emptiness in her expression. I remembered how deep her fear of water ran, and I shuddered as images flashed in my mind. Her eyes wide with terror, arms reaching for me as she splashed into the murky river.

Shaking off the recollections, I pulled her to her feet, then stood back and gave her time to stretch her muscles. "C'mon," I said, reaching out a hand. "Let's get you clean and warm, then you can start that good behavior by making dinner." We made our way up to my bedroom, where I directed her into the bathroom. Her eyes grew large and round at the sight of the garden tub. "Lucy, the shower." I pointed to the huge stall tucked on the other side of the tub. Last thing I needed was an episode of hysterics.

She folded her arms. "You don't have to stay. I can shower on my own. There's nowhere for me to—" She cut off when she turned to face me. Her gaze followed my movements as I lifted the hem of my T-shirt up my chest, and I couldn't help the smirk that flitted across my lips.

"No, sweetheart. I'm getting in with you." I gestured toward the stall, a large enclosure of walls made with blue and grey tile. A narrow opening served as the entrance. She gawked at me a for a few seconds, and I was so close to shoving her inside because shit…I couldn't wait to get my hands on her body.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Here is another update. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. As always updates will be on Wednesdays and Saturdays.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 13: Lucy POV

My mouth gaped at his muscular chest, and I couldn't tear my eyes from him when he lowered his jeans. The charcoal gray boxer briefs went the way of his pants. He displayed his body without shame or modesty. I took in every inch of him, especially the dark tribal lines that streaked across the left side of his chest and down both arms. I wanted to follow that map with my lips and fingertips, wanted to lick down his muscles, past his abs, only stopping long enough to tease his erection with my tongue.

"Have you seen enough yet?"

I jumped, lifting my attention to his face, and felt my own flush. Furious Natsu scared the shit out of me, and naked, lustful-looking Natsu made me just as nervous. Both versions were passionate and cold, stable one minute yet irrational the next. I lowered my gaze to his erection. Moisture collected at the tip, and some secret part of my psyche celebrated. I did that to him, without even touching him. He couldn't hide his desire like I could mine, collecting between my closed thighs, stowed away and out of sight.

This was the first time I'd felt anything during the past two days. While locked away in the dark, I'd found a way to shut down. Maybe I'd experienced a delayed reaction to the horror of nearly drowning, but when he left me alone in that cellar, shivering more violently than ever before, my brain simply stopped functioning like normal. Somehow, I'd found a way to cope. I'd pretended to be somewhere else. Someone else. I'd made up a new identity. In my new dream world, I called myself Ashley. Ashley was plain and boring and absurdly happy. Ashley had a loving, devoted husband, two adorable kids, and a perfect, non-smelly dog named Plue. Ashley lived in the south, possibly Alvarez, where it was dry and sweltering under the sun.

"Get in," Natsu said, bunching his hands, and the fantasy of another life dissolved, leaving cold, hard truth in its wake.

I resisted the urge to cover myself as I entered the shower. Next to his beautiful physique, my filthy and unkempt body with curves in all the wrong places paled in comparison. He stepped in after me and turned on the dual shower heads. Hot spray filled every corner, hitting us from all directions. I gasped when he shoved me against the freezing tile. Without a word, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and squirted some into a palm before rubbing both hands together. I closed my eyes and focused on breathing as he started washing my hair, but when he added more soap and slid his hands down my shoulders and over my breasts, I almost came undone, unprepared for those hands gliding over me. As his fingers blazed along my skin, I wrestled with my demons, the ones that lived to remind me of what a dirty whore I was. I'd never experienced what was considered a normal physical reaction to sex, the ability to enjoy it without the threat of force or violence. No one had ever made me feel like this. Natsu had more power in a single touch than Sting had in his entire being.

The heat flaming between my thighs was undeniable, unbearable, and I whimpered when those strong hands drifted over my stomach and smoothed down my legs. "I'll have to buy you a shaving kit." He caressed behind a knee. "I want to shave these legs." A shiver traveled along my skin from head to toe, contradictory to the hot shower. He worked his way up my body and tilted my head so the water sluiced over my face and hair. "Soap's gone. You can open your eyes now." His gaze transfixed me, capturing me in green depths from which I'd never return. "Raise your arms." Later, I might question why I did it without hesitation. I brought my arms up and held them high. I didn't think about disobeying, especially when he dropped to his knees and licked his lips. "Spread your legs."

Holy hell. Sucking in a breath, I widened my stance. He wrapped his arms around my hips, hands clutching my ass, and pulled my pelvis toward his face. But he didn't put his mouth on me. Not yet. He took his time, languid gaze roaming past belly and breasts before settling on my face. The sight of Natsu naked and on his knees, salmon hair plastered to his forehead and drops of water hanging on his lashes, was the most gorgeous view in existence. Reality was far better than the dream. Except for the part where he'd kidnapped me. "What do you want from me?" I whispered, confused because he was being so gentle. He'd shown me nothing but cruel detachment since he'd taken me…until I'd fallen into the river.

A violent tremor raced through me, and that night came rushing back; the freezing water closing over my head, the realization I was going to die. Something else broke through the fog that had blanketed me for the past couple of days. Him. The way he'd reacted, how he'd been furious and punishing but also fearful of losing me. It dawned on me that my almost drowning had rattled him, and I wondered what it meant.

His gaze held mine, unblinking as water streamed down his face. "I want many things from you, but right now I want to taste you." He leaned forward, and I thought I'd pass out when his tongue slid between my folds.

"Oh God, Natsu."

His fingers dug into my ass, and he let out a long groan that vibrated straight to my core. I balled my hands, struggling to keep them raised, and let my head fall back against the tile. My body sang for him, quivered and ached with the mere brush of his lips, the teasing scrape of teeth. My breaths burst out in short gasps, and I closed my eyes and let the water wash over my forehead and cheeks as an orgasm built. I was so close. Two more strokes of his tongue, and my toes would curl. I'd slide to the floor in completion, limbs as fluid as the water beating down on us.

He jerked back and looked up at me, a hard glint in his eyes. "Don't stop." I thrust my hips toward him, a silent plea for him to finish. He rose and held my face, mouth hovering an inch from mine as our eyes locked, and licked the water from his lips. My jaw slackened, and I felt the spray from the shower misting on my tongue. He was going to kiss me. I was sure of it. "Natsu," I whispered, aching to taste him. Just once. He pulled my arms down.

"Wrap your hand around me." I closed my fingers around his erection, and my palm glided over silky smooth skin. His breath shuddered out with every stroke and mingled with mine in a frenzy of want and need. The air between us grew moist and warm from the steam of the shower. "Fuck," he groaned, his forehead falling against mine, "that feels incredible. Keep going."

Mindlessly, I rubbed him and watched in wonder as he lost himself to my touch. With each groan and sigh that erupted from his beautiful mouth, my own need bloomed out of control. "I want you so much," I said.

He let out a growl and stilled my movement. "You're not getting off." If he intended to drive me mad by using my desire for him as a weapon, then he'd have no problem succeeding. Natsu had turned into a cruel son of a bitch. "Get on your knees, sweetheart." How I hated that endearment coming from his lips. He said it with scorn, made it sound like an insult. Hands gripping my shoulders, he pushed down hard until my knees buckled. The thought of sucking his cock shouldn't excite me so much. Shit, I was in big trouble. He was toying with me, making me hot and wet for him, and leaving me with no end in sight.

He angled my head back, his touch somehow gentle despite the iron-like hold he had on me. I opened my mouth, my heart thudding in my ears as he pushed his dick inside. "Fuck. I haven't had a woman suck me off in eight years." His admission filled me with a sense of power. I'd be the one to bring him pleasure after all this time. I closed my lips around his shaft and peeked up at him, needing the connection, but he avoided eye contact. He tipped forward, palms slamming against the tile, and his chest rose and fell shallowly, biceps rippling, tattoos a dark sheen underneath the water. He grunted with each thrust, and his essence infused my tongue with the heady taste of him. I wanted him inside me so badly—a desperate need I was certain would destroy me. _You're not getting off._ Eventually, he was going to fuck me again. And eventually, I was going to break from frustration.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Here is another update. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming. A reviewer asked for my age and I am 18 and a virgin. I just did a lot of research for this story and asked my friends about their sex stories to make this realistic as possible.** **I will be starting college for the first time ever next week so I am not sure if I can still promise weekly updates Wednesdays and Saturdays. I will try to update but it won't be as regular as it is now.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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Chapter 14: Natsu POV

Holy shit. Her mouth was heaven. Hot, almost too damn hot, and tight around my dick. She took her time with the tip, rolling her tongue in circular motions before licking down the underside. My head dropped against the tile, and my mind shattered, thoughts lost to the roar of the water. I couldn't look at her, didn't want her to see how completely unglued I was. This spitfire of a woman, a woman I had every reason to hate, made me question everything.

Damn, it'd been too fucking long since I'd had a woman on her knees pleasuring me. I tried convincing myself that was the only reason for the intensity in my groin, that it had nothing to do with who was sucking me off, but that didn't fly. I thrust my hips forward, needing to go deeper. Faster. She edged back and made a gagging noise, but I shoved my hands into her wet, tangled hair and growled. No way in hell was I letting her pull away. She was going to swallow my load, every last bit of it. I expected her to fight me, but instead she did something that stunned the hell out of me; she fondled my balls in her warm palm and moaned. Fuck, Lucy getting off on sucking my cock was fucking amazing.

I glanced down and found her gaze trained on me as her lips slid along my shaft. Hot damn…she was good at this. The sexiest thing about her eyes was the genuine need in them. She wasn't putting on a show or giving me a fake sultry stare like other women used to. She took me deep in her throat and gagged, but she didn't retreat. "Lucy…" I hissed in a breath between clenched teeth. "That. Keep doing that. Almost there." She gagged again, and that was my undoing. Thank God for small favors. I curled my fingers in her strands, holding her immobile, and pushed deeper. I wanted as deep as possible—wanted her helpless because up until then, she'd held all the power.

My mind disconnected, floating where only liberation existed, and I ground my eyes shut, groaning as my release spurted down her throat. She finished swallowing, and reluctantly, I let her pull those amazing lips from my shaft. Her needy expression was almost too much, and when she placed a tender kiss on the tip of my dick, something inside me wanted to crack. I almost did. She was bringing me back from the brink, bit by bit, and only the reminder of the hell she'd put me through kept me on course.

She whispered my name, a question in her tone.

"Quiet," I said, not ungently, but I seriously needed a few seconds to collect myself. Damn it, my dick was still hard. I hated that I didn't have a handle on my control, but I guessed that was to be expected after going so long without sex, and fucking her twice wasn't enough. I suspected it would never be enough with her. I was this close to taking her to bed, and if I had my way, we wouldn't leave it for at least three days. I couldn't do that. Giving her exactly what she wanted, which ironically was me, wasn't what I intended to do.

Maybe someday, after she came clean with the truth, we could really work past our problems and find a fucked up version of normal. Our normal. I didn't see that happening for a while. Too much of me still hated her…but too much of me still wanted her. How more messed up could I get?

I shut off the water, stepped from the shower, and grabbed two towels before handing her one. She wrapped her body in soft green terrycloth. "Can I please have my clothes back now?"

"No way." I ran my gaze up and down her body, taking in her long legs, the gentle swell of cleavage, and the curve of her waist. Even obscured by the towel, she was the definition of fuckable. "I like knowing you're naked and accessible at all times. If I tell you to bend over so I can fuck you, I don't want clothing in the way."

She wouldn't look at me as she finished drying her skin, then, with her lower lip caught between her teeth, she slowly let the towel drop. "I'm ready."

Somehow, I guessed there was a double meaning to those words. I'd bet the deed to this island she was still wet and throbbing for me, which was how I wanted her. In fact, I wanted her in a constant state of arousal. I twitched at the thought. Playing this game with her could be more fun than I imagined. I quickly dressed and led her down the ladder and into the kitchen. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I settled at the table and popped the cap. "Start dinner."

She seemed lost at first, her gaze veering in my direction every so often as she perused the kitchen. I wondered if she even knew how to cook, considering her spoiled upbringing included an on-demand chef and a housekeeper. I didn't feel obliged to give her any pointers. I rather enjoyed watching her flounder. If she wanted to stay out of trouble, she'd figure out how to make something edible. After five minutes of opening and closing the cupboard doors, followed by the fridge and freezer, she settled on baking chicken.

She bent over, her perfect ass aiming straight at me, as she slid the pan into the oven, and by the time she shut the door, I had a raging hard-on again. My body wanted her constantly, and I couldn't stop myself from grabbing her, mid-stride, and settling her on my lap. I pushed her legs apart until she straddled me, and she had to realize exactly what I needed from her. Wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, I drew her close, aching to taste her lips, but I stopped before we connected.

Kissing was intimate. Kissing usually fucked everything up by bringing feelings into the mix. But hell, she smelled amazing—a mixture of soap and something that was one hundred percent Lucy. Her stomach rumbled, reminding me that she was supposed to be finishing dinner, not sitting on my lap, tempting me to fuck her or do something as asinine as kiss her.

"You're driving me crazy," she said, head falling back and eyes drifting shut. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

She was driving me crazy. I grabbed her hips and pulled her snug against my cock, and the only thing keeping me from fucking her was my own damn clothing. Maybe we should both walk around naked. I rubbed against her, and the rough texture of my jeans created friction on her clit. She moaned, her head falling to my shoulder, tits smashing against my chest as she clung to me. "I can't take much more of this."

"If you tell me why you lied, I'll make you come so fucking hard, you'll forget your own name."

With a shudder, she tangled her hands in my hair, fingers clutching in desperation. "You're evil," she groaned.

If her touch didn't feel so good, I would have trapped her hands behind her back. "Tell me, sweetheart," I said, my lips brushing her ear. "Tell me what I want to know, and I'll put you out of your misery." I gripped her nape and scraped my teeth across her throat. "But if you keep up this bullshit, you're gonna learn what the female equivalent of blue balls is." I rubbed against her again to make my point.

She trembled in my arms, and I felt the dampness from her pussy seeping through my jeans. "You were right the other night," she said. "I was young and selfish. I couldn't handle you rejecting me."

Now that she'd said the words, they didn't ring true. I'd known she had a thing for me, but would she really sink so low as to ruin my life because I wouldn't touch jailbait? I wasn't sure why I hadn't considered it before, but something else was going on…something she was hiding. I pushed her to her feet, gave her a dark smile when she pulled that lower lip between her teeth, and reached for the button on my pants. Her gaze settled on my lap and never strayed as I inched down my zipper. I freed my dick, grabbed her hips and twirled her around, and pulled her onto my shaft.

She was so fucking wet. Wrapping both arms around her, I brought a hand up and circled her throat. Our bodies slapped together in a crazy rhythm that tilted me closer to the edge with each thrust.

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not," she bit out with a groan, and it was such a torturous sound one would think I was beating the shit out of her instead of fucking her.

I flexed my fingers. "Tell me the truth and I'll let you come."

She remained silent, and I wasn't sure if she flat-out refused to talk, or if she was scared to. Either way, I'd find out the truth, and I wouldn't stop pushing until she told me. I nibbled her neck, eliciting a moan from deep in her throat. I increased the pressure of my hand and held her to me when she started thrashing. I needed this, needed those few heightened seconds as she fought for survival while I spilled into her. I was doing just that, her body going limp in my arms, when Gray walked through the door.

"Damn, man. You didn't tell me tonight was dinner and a show night."


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: Sorry for being gone so long. College was fun and I've just been extremely busy. I'm sorry for leaving you guys like that. I finally got some free time and will try to update more. With that said, here is another update. Constructive criticism is welcomed, not bashing or flaming.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters. They belong to Hiro Mashima.**

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 **Chapter 15: Lucy's POV**

I slept in Natsu's bed, and for the first time since he'd kidnapped me a week ago, I actually slept. Really slept. Mostly surprised by how he liked to cuddle. I remembered the way he held on to me the night I tried to escape, but I thought he'd done it to keep me from taking off.

Now that he knew I had no intention of leaving the cabin, the way he held my body all night—one palm on my breast while the other wedged between my thighs—I realized this was how he liked to sleep. But what I found even more surprising was how I got any sleep at all, considering the placement of his hands.

So was the way in which I awoke, with his fist clamping around both wrists and his erection pushing into my mouth. I opened my eyes and found him straddling my chest, pink hair tumbling onto his forehead as he gazed at me. Well-defined muscles rippled underneath black lines of ink. His body was a masterpiece, God's finest art, and those green eyes…I'd never tire of losing myself in them. I hadn't outgrown him at all, not during the last eight years, not even now that he'd kidnapped me and revealed the darkness festering inside him. Part of me craved his sinful obsidian desires.

He pulled out and plunged back in, and I rolled my tongue around the tip, tasting the musky salt that signified his need. He braced himself upright, one hand on the headboard, and pushed deeper. I loved how smooth and solid he was in my mouth. I always gagged while giving head, but I wanted to take him all the way in, deep in my throat, and I didn't give a shit if I gagged or not.

He stilled with a shudder, and his lids drooped, though his eyes never left mine, never stopped giving off their hypnotic vibe. "Do you like sucking me off?" His husky voice doused my skin in a blissful chill, and I tingled all over, tightening my lips around the base of his cock.

"Fuck, Lucy, you've got the hottest damn mouth." He started moving again, a slow, torturous pace. Torturous because the longer he took, the more I wanted him filling someplace else.

"You're fucking gorgeous, curls everywhere, those lips wrapped around my dick." He tightened his hold on my wrists. "I could get used to waking you up like this."

Oh God, so could I, if he'd only let me come. I clenched my thighs together, but it did nothing to relieve the ache that had throbbed since last night since he'd choked me into unconsciousness.

He increased the pace, and the taste of him intensified, as did the pressure on my wrists when he edged back and pinched my nose. I flailed in a panic, legs kicking, and tried to pull free of his erection, but he shoved it down my throat and smothered me. Our gazes crashed together, and my pulse pounded in my temples, ticking away the seconds. "Trust me, I won't kill you, but I can do this all day. Thirty more seconds and your lungs will "ignite. Blink twice if you're ready to tell me what you're hiding."

I didn't flutter an eyelash. Thing was, I did trust him. He wouldn't kill me. He wouldn't. My body was fast forgetting that though as I struggled for air, as my lungs burned for it.

He pulled out, and I sucked in a gasping breath before he pushed in again, deep down. "How long do you wanna play this game?"

I told myself not to panic and resort to using the only weapon I had—my mouth. I added suction and swirled my tongue, flicked and darted until his hips thrust in abandon. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care because I was about to send him over the edge, I could already tell.

"Fuck," he said with a growl as he came. He let go of my nose, and I almost choked as he spilled down my throat. He yanked out, and some of his cum spurted onto my lips and chin. "You play dirty."

"Not nearly as dirty as you!" I said, still gasping for air.

His lips quirked up in a lopsided grin. "You have no idea." He curled my fingers around the bars of the headboard before sliding down my body. "Spread your legs."

"No!"

"Spread your fucking legs."

Something about his tone made me tremble. I opened my thighs without another word of protest, and he slid his hands underneath my ass, thumbs skimming the entrance of my sex. His mouth parted, hot breath igniting me, and I arch into his erotic kiss with a moan, fingers squeezing the shit out of the bars as his tongue burrowed into me.

My legs fell to the sides, quaking uncontrollably. I gritted my teeth as my center coiled, seconds away from coming undone when he switched to light, closed-mouthed kisses that torturously teased. I held my breath, refusing to cry out in frustration. I needed to come, so bad, and I was seconds away from begging him for it, from grabbing at his skin as if it were my lifeline.

I wanted him all over me, inside me, and wrapping me in his raw and brutal strength. "Please, Natsu—" He closed his lips over my clit, and I bowed over the mattress with a wail. He flicked his tongue, just light enough to drive me insane. "Natsu, please…for the love of God, I need more." The headboard shook under the force of my grip.

"So do I," he said, words vibrating along my sex. "I need the truth." He worked his way to my core, tongue lapping up moisture, before returning to my downfall—that little spot that was an instant away from sending me hurtling into ecstasy-like chaos. Pushing a finger into me, his tongue pressed on my clit hard.

"Oh God…oh my fucking God…"

He pulled away, and an anguished cry tore from my throat. He propped his head on a hand and looked at me between shamelessly spread legs, my knees bent on either side of him and feet flat on the mattress. "How bad do you want it?"

"Stupid question."

"Wrong answer." He kissed my hip, then dragged his lips up my stomach before sucking a nipple into his mouth. He slid a palm between my legs and stoked the blaze raging inside me. I thrust my pelvis into his touch, arched my spine, and was about to shatter when he stopped again. My breath expelled in a rush. I hated and loved him all at once, and my body was on the same page.

He brought his hands to my neck and clamped down, and I knew without a doubt he was going to choke me again. I prepared my useless fists to pound against his steel body.

"Fight me, sweetheart." I stiffened at his demand and refused to move. Part of me wanted to rebel, wanted to gain the upper hand even as he threatened to stifle me. With a growl, he increased the pressure until I opened my mouth under his crushing weight. "You're gonna put up a fight, whether you want to or not."

Bastard.

The compression on my neck became unbearable, and the need to break free kicked in. I beat on his chest, shoved against his arms, and made it to my knees, a move he must have allowed because he was too strong for me. My face screamed for relief as I used all the force I had, but I still couldn't get his hands off my throat. We fell to the floor, and I landed hard on my back. He pinned me down, forced my legs apart, and settled his erection at my entrance.

"You want my cock?"

I gasped, more concerned with breathing than with fucking. "Natsu…stop…" I clawed at his fingers, desperate to get free. His gaze never left mine, and I realized this was how he got off. He craved my helplessness, perhaps because my actions had rendered him helpless for so long.

Or maybe because Natsu "Salamander" Dragneel got his kicks in holding the lives of others in his hands.

"You're hurting me." Tears leaked out and burned tracks down my cheeks.

He pushed into me violently. "Fuck," he groaned. "Your refusal to tell me the truth is hurting you." His hands pressed harder on my throat.

My body reacted instinctively, and I kicked and squirmed, my useless fingers gouging his. "Please," I squeaked, but the fucked up part was how I was getting wetter with each thrust, despite him choking me. The edges of the room grew dark, and I felt weightless as I drifted into nothingness.

His erratic breathing washed over me as my lids fluttered open. I gripped my throat, wheezing air into burning lungs. He was still pumping, and I was on the verge of coming, even after losing consciousness, when Gray dropped the ladder and popped his head through the opening.

"Dude. Someone just showed up."


End file.
